Harry Potter and the Dagger of Death
by Xanthia Morgan
Summary: After Book 4, Voldemort seeks to destroy Harry once and for all. But who is this coming to the rescue? And what ties does she have to Sirius Black? COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

This takes place after Goblet of Fire. As always, I do not own the main characters, they are the property of J.K. Rowling. 

  
  
  
  


Harry Potter and the Dagger of Death

  
  


by Xanthia Morgan

  
  
  
  
  
  


Part One: The Blade Wizard

  
  


Eskew Slagger picked his way carefully down the shadowed, rutted path that led to the Riddle House. The house was closed and dark, but cracks in the shutters showed red light. "Like knife cuts ooze blood," Slagger thought. He smiled at his grim analogy, if you could call the cold, razor thin curve of his lips a smile. He knocked on the heavy door and waited. After a few moments the door creaked open and a thin, harried face peered out. Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail to his master, heaved the door open wider to get a better look at the visitor. "You're late," he sneered. "Lord Voldemort doesn't like to be kept waiting."

  
  


"Well, Lord Voldemort," Slagger replied nastily, "is lucky I could come at all. Since his return to power my business has been booming and I'm an extremely busy man. No one wants to walk the streets with just a wand anymore. My blades are much in demand."

  
  


Wormtail snorted and gestured the knife maker inside. He pushed the door closed and it latched with a thud. Wormtail moved forward and gestured toward a dark hallway. "This way," he said quietly. "Lord Voldemort is in the parlor." Slagger followed the man who betrayed James and Lily Potter to an open doorway. "The blade wizard is here," Wormtail announced, then stepped aside. 

  
  


Slagger entered the parlor, his eyes taking in the richly appointed furnishings and gleaming silver candlesticks. A wide hearth with a roaring blaze filled the center of the far wall and a large armchair was pulled before it. The dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort sat waiting, his legs crossed, a glass of brandy dangling from one hand. He motioned for Slagger to come forward as he called out a greeting. "Eskew, how nice to see you again." 

  
  


"Voldemort," Slagger replied curtly. "You're looking well." 

  
  


"Yes," Voldemort hissed, "aren't I? Enough pleasantries, have you what I asked for?" Voldemort set down his glass and leaned forward in the chair, his fingers steepled as he watched Slagger approach. 

  
  


The blade wizard drew himself up haughtily. "Of course I have it. Did you doubt that I would?" Voldemort only smiled. Slagger continued. "I have but to work the final spell and it's done." 

  
  


Voldemort's smile vanished. "What do you mean 'final spell'? I thought your instructions had been very clear. My assistant was given very specific orders on this! Wormtail, is that not what I asked you to do?" Voldemort's quiet, menacing voice carried to the doorway where Wormtail stood. He tripped over his feet, barely catching himself, as he hurried to his master. 

  
  


"I told him you needed an energy source . . . that you needed a link. Wasn't that right? That is what you told me. Isn't it?" Wormtail looked to Slagger as if for confirmation. "That's what I told you. I told you what you needed to know."

  
  


Slagger nodded. "That is so. He told me all that, but what I need to know is - what kind of energy source? Different sources require specific spells. Do you need a long or short term source? That will determine the length of the blade and the type of spell. Also, I need to know if the blade can be removed. If you want it to stay in, I need to set protective spells on the hilt." Slagger shrugged. "It seems a simple task but it is really quite complicated. You needn't fear my discretion. I keep my clients' secrets, as you are undoubtedly aware."

  
  


Voldemort stared at the dagger maker, trying to determine whether the man's loyalty was solid enough to trust him with a potentially fatal secret. Slagger was one of the few wizards who did not carry the Dark Mark yet held Voldemort's favor. He admired that the man was totally without conscience and willing to do anything for money. Still, he hesitated. 

  
  


"I know you can be, shall we say, discreet. I also know that you value gold above all else and would very likely create a blade to kill your own father were the galleons stacked the right way."

  
  


Slagger laughed nastily. "I'm afraid that's very true. But you know that I am faithful to you, my lord." He bowed slightly but could not disguise the sarcasm in his voice. Voldemort stared at him, his snakelike eyes seeming to see into the blade wizard's very soul. Slagger raised his head haughtily and returned the cruel gaze. Voldemort's eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned. Still, he continued to stare. After a few moments he noticed a slight sheen on Slagger's forehead. His lips curled into a smile. If he could make the man sweat, he could make the man fear. Fear was a powerful tool and Slagger was afraid, no matter how flippant he pretended to be. After another moment he nodded and released his gaze.

  
  


"As you know, my powers have returned to me, as well as my form. However, to achieve my full abilities will take time. Time I do not want to waste. I need energy from another source. I cannot drain Wormtail, he is, for the moment useful to me. I cannot go on as I have, draining lesser wizards in one shot. It is exhilarating, but the effects are sadly temporary. I need someone young and powerful. Someone who's abilities could possibly equal my own. Someone to whom I already have a connection. A blood connection."

  
  


Slagger looked puzzled. "I thought all your blood relatives were dead, my lord."

  
  


Voldemort laughed. "They are. I made sure of that myself. The person to whom I am referring is not a relative. Nonetheless, we do share a bond of blood."

  
  


Slagger had withdrawn a small notebook and was writing furiously as Voldemort spoke. He nodded and muttered to himself. "Four and a half inch blade, one inch across at the top." He looked up. Thrown or thrust?"

  
  


Voldemort stroked his long fingers against his chin thoughtfully. "Thrown, I think."

  
  


Slagger nodded again and wrote as he spoke. "Four and a half inch hilt balanced for throwing. Excellent. Now I assume you won't want the blade removed?"

  
  
  
  
  
  


Voldemort nodded. "No other wizard or Muggle is to remove that blade, Slagger." 

  
  


Slagger regarded him slyly from under his eyebrows. "No other wizard? You're certain that's what you want?" 

  
  


Voldemort nodded again. "Or Muggle."

  
  


Slagger looked puzzled for a moment. Then the answer dawned on him and his knife edge smile returned. "If you will but give me a few moments, I will have exactly what you need."

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Dudley Dursley stood at the far end of Privet Drive and kicked morosely at the gravel by the roadside. Since he'd returned from Smeltings at the end of the school year, his life had been one miserable day after another. First, the school nurse had sent home a letter stating that, while Dudley had indeed lost some much needed weight, he should continue to modify his diet over the summer. She had enclosed a printed guideline that had Dudley eating lots of what his father deemed 'rabbit food' and had essentially forbidden him the sinful treats he loved most. She had also suggested lots of 'exercise' and so his parents had been forced to limit his television watching and game playing to three hours of each a day. This meant that his other endless hours were spent outside 'playing'. Dudley hated the outdoors. The only time it was any fun was when he was Harry hunting but since returning home at the end of term, Harry spent so much time in his room that Dudley was deprived of one of his favorite summer pastimes. Oh, it wasn't the hunting part that Dudley liked so much, it was the catching. And even that hadn't been all that much fun these last couple of years because Harry almost always managed to get away from him at the last minute. The worst part of the whole summer had been when his father said that, since he was becoming a man, it would be good for him to have a little responsibility around the house. So Dudley was given the awful job of taking out the trash. His mother had been so proud that he'd been given a 'job' that she paid him 

five pounds a week. 

  
  


It still made Dudley angry. Harry was the one who took out the trash. He always had. It galled him that he was given one of Harry's jobs and Harry didn't have to anything extra in return. He sat down hard on the curb and began to beat a large stick against the pavement, wishing it was Harry's head. 

  
  


"What's this then? Sumpin' got ya bothered there does it?"

  
  


Dudley raised his eyes sullenly. An old pushcart was stopped in front of him. He looked up to see a weathered man, about his father's age he guessed, observing him closely. 

  
  


"Don't seem right, it don't. A fine day such as this an' a fine young man such as yerself seemin' so outta sorts. Tell old Tom about it an' see if he can't make it right." 

  
  


Dudley studied the man. He seemed a good enough sort. After all, he'd called him a fine young man. And he so wanted to tell somebody about his problems. No one at home wanted to listen, that was certain. His parents were so afraid of Harry's killer godfather that no one dared say "Boo" to the freak. 

  
  


"My cousin. He gets everything," Dudley whined. "And I have to do all the work."

  
  


"Aye, lad. I see how 'tis now. No one understands ya at home. Yer cousin is gettin' all the attention and yer poor self is left out in the cold. A pity, it is. A fine boy like yerself deserves better 'an that."

  
  


Dudley warmed to his audience and continued to complain. He told the peddler all about how he couldn't watch tv or play video games and how he was doing all Harry's work. He was feeling so good about feeling sorry for himself that he never mentioned that he didn't actually have any work to do, other than take out the garbage, and he got paid for that.

  
  


The stranger was a good listener and was very understanding of Dudley's plight. He nodded and made sympathetic clucking noises and kept repeating what a fine young man Dudley was and what a shame his ungrateful cousin was so selfish and demanding. He waited patiently while Dudley rambled on and when the boy finally stopped for breath he jumped into the empty space.

  
  


"I know just what yer needin', young man, indeed, I do. Yer needin' sumpin' to take yer mind off yer troubles. Sumpin' that's just fer you." The peddler rummaged around in the bottom of the pushcart and pulled out a long, cloth-covered package. "Try this on fer size," he beamed.

  
  


Dudley took the package and unwrapped it. Nestled against the black velvet was a gleaming dagger. The blade was of shining steel, the hilt was in the shape of a dragon and ornately carved, right down to the scales. Dudley ran his finger against the blade and pulled back when the sharp edge bit into his skin. 

  
  


"Careful, there, laddie, 'tis razor sharp, 'tis. It's a throwing dagger. There's none like it anywhere in the world." The peddler watched as Dudley studied the hilt with greedy eyes. 

  
  


"Are these real emeralds?" Dudley asked, pointing to the dragon's eyes.

  
  


The peddler looked up and down the street, as if checking to see that they were alone. He leaned close to Dudley' ear and whispered "That they are, laddie. That they are. It's said that this here blade once belonged to King Arthur himself, although I canna say for certain that it's true. I can only tell you that this knife is very special. I wouldn't let just anyone have it, and that's the truth."

  
  


Dudley's ears perked up and he glanced sideways at the stranger. "Have it?" he asked innocently, mindful of the twenty odd pounds he had in his pocket.

  
  


"Have it," stated the peddler. "With the sad treatment yer gettin' at home, I can guarantee yer not gettin' any pocket money. I can see that plain as day. No, this is a gift from me to you. I been in your situation, laddie, I know how it feels to be the outcast. You take this from me." 

  
  


"Thanks," said Dudley. 

  
  


"Just promise me one thing," added the peddler as he started to wheel the cart away.

  
  


"What?" asked Dudley suspiciously.

  
  


"You're not to use this on a person. That's understood now."

  
  


Dudley held the wrapped knife close to him. "Oh, no," he smiled sweetly, "I won't."

  
  
  
  


The peddler walked away down Privet Drive. "Good lad. Well, I'm off. Take care now. And remember what yer old friend, Tom Riddle, told you about the knife. You're not to be using it on just anybody."

  
  


Dudley's sweet smile turned mean as he headed toward home. "I won't use it on just anybody, Mr. Riddle," he whispered. "I promise." 

  
  
  
  


*********************************

  
  


Harry sat with his elbows propped on his knees, chin in hand, staring out his bedroom window into the afternoon sky. He'd sent Hedwig off with a letter for Sirius days ago and she still hadn't returned. "It's not as if I even knew where he was," Harry thought morosely. He knew that many of his wizard friends were out in the world, recruiting other wizards for the inevitable battle against Voldemort. But still, he wished he knew where Sirius was at least. Harry had considered writing to Albus Dumbledore, asking his godfather's whereabouts, but he knew that the Hogwarts' headmaster wouldn't be able to tell him, even if he did know. Harry sighed. He'd wanted to go with Sirius after the Triwizard tournament. He'd wanted to go anywhere, actually, but back to Privet Drive. However, Dumbledore thought it best that he return to his aunt and uncle. For some reason he thought Harry would be safer there than anywhere else. Harry sighed again and straightened. A fresh warm breeze wafted through the window. Harry took a deep breath and shrugged. "No use wasting a perfectly beautiful day sitting here," he said aloud. He put on his shoes and headed downstairs.

  
  


"Where are you going?" Aunt Petunia asked crossly from the living room doorway. She was cleaning and didn't want him mucking up her spotless house.

  
  


"I'm going outside," Harry replied, trying to keep a polite tone in his voice. The older he got the more he realized how much he disliked his family. 

  
  


"Well, go out the back door. I've just cleaned in here." Aunt Petunia snarled. Harry didn't answer. He headed toward the kitchen. "And take off your shoes before you come back in. I'll be doing the kitchen next," she warned. Harry waved a hand in her direction as an answer and left the house.

  
  


Once outside, Harry felt better. The sun was unusually bright this day and the air was fresh with the smells of new mown grass and summer flowers. It was warm but not humid as was typically the case in England in summer and Harry let all doubt and worry fade away as he ambled toward the park several blocks away. "Everything will be fine," he told no one in particular. "I'll get through this summer and be back at Hogwarts sooner than not. Sirius will come home and this whole thing with Voldemort will pass." Then he laughed and shook his head at what his aunt and uncle would say about him talking to himself like this. "They'd probably look around frantically for some kind of ghost or invisible wizard" he thought. He laughed again and felt better than he had in weeks. "I can do this," he said aloud and he picked up his pace. He spied a bird taking flight ahead of him and he felt his own spirits soar as he watched it climb into the sky. 

  
  


*********************************

  
  


"Come on, Dudley, let us have a go."

  
  


Dudley ignored his whining friend, Reginald Hadley, and concentrated on the knife in his hand. 

  
  


"Yeah, Dursley, let us have a chance with it. You've had it all afternoon," complained Milton Hadley, Reginald's cousin. "You invited us along so let us have it."

  
  


Dudley walked over to the tree he'd been using as a target and pulled the knife out of the center knothole. "It's mine! I just got it today and you can't have it yet. I'm still practicing."

  
  


"Practicing?" asked Reginald incredulously. "Practicing? You've hit the ruddy target every single time. What is there left to practice?"

  
  


"Reggie's right, Dursley. You'd think you were born with that ruddy thing in your hand, the way you've been throwing. I don't believe you that you've never done this before."

  
  


Dudley turned to the boys with a superior smile on his fat face. "I'm just a natural, I guess. Some things you're just good at. Or great at, in this case." He flipped the knife in circles, catching it by the handle each time. "I feel as this knives were made just for me. It's balanced perfectly. But then again, you'd expect something that King Arthur had owned to be this fine." He pretended to polish the blade on his shirt, his beady eyes checking his friends' reaction. He smiled when he saw them look uncertainly at each other.

  
  


"King Arthur? THE King Arthur? You're saying that knife belonged to him?" Milton sounded doubtful.

  
  


"That's what I was told when it was presented to me," Dudley gloated. "That this knife was King Arthur's and it was meant to be mine." 

  
  


Milton snorted. "I'm not so sure he's lying," ventured Reginald, after looking closer at the hilt. "I mean, those jewels in the eyes look real and wasn't King Arthur's symbol a dragon?" Milton leaned in closer and peered intently at the dragon's winking eyes. "It might be the truth," Reginald continued. "I mean, I've never known Dudley to lie and we've known him since our first year at Smeltings." 

  
  


Dudley nodded vigorously. "You know I'm a man of my word," he vowed, "and I tell you that's the truth." He had conveniently forgotten all the things he'd told them over the years that weren't true. "This knife was destined to be mine from the beginning. Hundreds of years ago, whoever made this knife was thinking 'Someday this will be Dudley's'."

"Well, you certainly handle it like you've had it for years," agreed Reginald.

  
  


"Maybe," said Milton dubiously, "but I still want a go."

  
  


"Yeah, Dudley, teach us how to do that! I mean it. You make it look so easy. Almost like magic."

  
  


Dudley liked that. 'Like magic' Reginald had said. He smiled. A nasty little smile that came straight from his nasty little heart. He then looked at the two boys, as if evaluating their worth. Finally he nodded. "Alright, then. I'll teach you the finer points in a while. First, I want to see if I can throw it underhand as well I can overhand." Milton and Reginald agreed and watched as Dudley continued to throw at the tree. "You're not the only one in this family who can do magic, Harry Potter," Dudley thought as he watched the knife strike true throw after throw, "and this time . . . " He left the thought unfinished as the blade buried itself into the tree with a satisfying thwack.


	2. Chapter Two

  
  


Part Two: Like Magic 

  
  


Harry lay on the grassy slope and stared up at the clouds. He was watching the birds play tag and was imagining himself among them, darting in and out on his Firebolt. The ground beneath him was warm and dry and he was relaxed for the first time since returning home. Thoughts of the Triwizard Tournament, Voldemort, and Cedric Diggory were far away as he lost himself in the deep blue summer sky. He sighed contentedly and mentally chased down a larger bird that had come to spoil the smaller birds' game. He zoomed toward it on the Firebolt and sent it flying off in terror. "I wish it was that simple," Harry thought. "If only the real bullies in the world would be so easily frightened off, then I could have a real home with Sirius and we could all just get on with our lives." He felt the despair that had plagued him since Cedric's death creep back into him. He sighed again, turned over and rested his head on his arms. He closed his eyes and felt the grass tickle his chin and wondered what Ron and Hermione were doing now. Hermione was probably in Bulgaria visiting Viktor Krum and Ron was very likely not happy about that. Harry frowned as he pondered the change that had come over Ron this past year. He certainly was acting awfully possessive of Hermione and it was beginning to affect their close friendship. "I guess it would've happened to one of us sooner or later," Harry admitted to himself. "I just never saw it happening to the two of them." Thoughts of a relationship between his two best friends brought Cho Chang to Harry's mind. He pictured her face and wondered if he would ever have a chance with her. 

  
  


Harry's musings were interrupted when familiar voices carried up to him from the other side of the hill. He crept up to the top, peered over and groaned aloud. Dudley and two of his Smeltings cronies were coming his way and he had no desire to run into them. He turned over and rolled down the hill, wishing, not for the first time, that he had his invisibility cloak with him. He scrambled onto his hands and knees at the bottom and stood up. Harry looked around for the best escape route and decided a straight sprint across the field to the woods on the other side was the best option. After all, he could certainly outrun Dudley and he was pretty sure he could outrun Dudley's friends. He spared a glance back at the top of the hill and saw the top of Dudley's head above the crest. He decided now was as good a time as any to start so he sprinted onto the field, hoping they were distracted enough in their conversation to overlook him. A shout from Dudley drove any such thoughts from his head and he increased his speed.

  
  


*********************************

  
  


"You promised us a go with the knife, Dudley. I want my turn," Reginald complained loudly.

  
  


"I told you. It's time to go home. My mum will have dinner on soon and then I can watch t.v.."

Dudley was tired of hearing his friends carp about the knife and decided to take his prize home. He had no intention of sharing it with them, and so he made up an excuse to get away. 

  
  


"What about tomorrow?" Milton demanded. "You did promise and a Smeltings boy never goes back on a promise. It's part of the creed, remember?"

  
  


"I'm going to be busy tomorrow. Besides, I didn't go back on my promise . . . " Dudley was saved from trying to justify himself by Reginald's elbow in his ribs. 

  
  


"Say, isn't that your nasty cousin Henry?" he asked, pointing out Harry's retreating form.

  
  
  
  


Dudley squinted at the running figure. "Hey, it is Harry. Hey! Stop!" he yelled. "I've got something for you!" Dudley turned to the two boys beside him. "You want to have some fun?" he asked wickedly. Reginald and Milton smiled nastily and nodded. "Let's get him!" Dudley yelled, and the three propelled themselves down the hill. "Whoever gets him, gets a go with the knife before we go home!" Dudley panted. The cousins needed no further urging to pick up their pace and within seconds had almost caught up with the fleeing boy. 

  
  


Harry glanced behind him and saw that Dudley's friends were gaining on him. He'd no doubt in his mind what would happen if they caught him. It was a first class pummeling to be sure. Not wanting to be beaten up this particular day, Harry ran faster, but it wasn't enough. Milton, seeing Harry was speeding up, launched himself into the air and tackled the smaller boy. Harry hit the ground with a loud thud and enough force to knock the wind out of him. He lay there gasping for breath as a wheezing Dudley caught up and stood over him, sweat dripping off his large forehead onto Harry's shirt.

  
  


Dudley smiled. "Caught you, Harry. Now why did you run off? We only wanted to have some fun." An unpleasant laugh erupted from his fat mouth and Harry swallowed nervously. He would stay silent until he found out what Dudley was up to, and by then, hopefully, he'd have figured out an escape. Dudley ordered Reginald and Milton to pick Harry up and follow him, so he was roughly hauled to his feet and dragged unwillingly toward the small wooded area ahead. 

  
  


"Why are we going in there?" asked Milton. 

  
  


"So no one sees us, idiot," replied Reginald. He turned to Dudley for support. "Isn't that right, Dudley?"

  
  


Dudley turned his piggy eyes on Reginald. "That's right, Reggie. Besides, I want to show Harry my new trick." Dudley caressed the knife through the cloth covering. "Don't you think he'd like to see some target practice?" Something in Dudley's voice warned Harry that this wasn't to be a typical session of 'what do we do to Harry'. A chill ran down his spine and he struggled to break free. Dudley halted long enough to punch Harry in the stomach before continuing on. Dudley's huge fist connected with Harry's diaphragm Harry felt the air rush out of his lungs. His knees caved under him and his head swam as he tried vainly to pull breath back into his body. Reginald and Milton sniggered evilly at his plight and tightened their grip on his arms. Harry was dully aware of their fingers digging cruelly into his flesh and his muscles ached from the pressure. 

  
  


"Right here," Dudley announced when they were a suitable distance from the field. He pointed to a large tree at the end of a small clearing. "Hold him," he ordered. Reginald and Milton hauled Harry over to the tree and pinned his back against it. They stretched his arms out and stood slightly behind him. Harry was helpless to move or even struggle. His arms were rotated back far enough that he couldn't pull forward and the tree behind him prevented any movement backward. He looked silently at Dudley.

  
  


"Well, well, well. It looks like I've finally caught you, Harry." Dudley's gloating voice echoed among the trees. "How does it feel to be the one who's helpless while someone else laughs." On cue, the three boys burst into gales of mocking laughter. Harry shuddered, his eyes never leaving Dudley's face. Dudley's lips curled into a mock smile. "Do you remember when you laughed at me last year? When your friends made my tongue swell? Do you remember when that horrible beast of a man gave me a pig's tail? Do you remember when you let the snake loose and when you inflated Aunt Marge?" Dudley had crept closer and closer with each question. He stood very close to Harry now. Suddenly, he yelled. "DO YOU? ANSWER ME, YOU FREAK!" 

  
  


Milton and Reginald stopped laughing. They looked at Dudley suspiciously. "What are you going on about, Dudley?" ventured Reginald hesitantly. Dudley turned a vicious gaze on the smaller boy. "Do you want in on this or not?" he snarled. Reginald recoiled in fear. He wasn't so sure about this anymore but Dudley, at this moment, frightened him, so he just nodded. Dudley switched his gaze to Milton. "And you?" he asked quietly. Milton just stared. Dudley laughed again and backed away. "Now, Harry, aren't you curious as to what this new trick I've mentioned might be? Well, just so happens I've been given a new toy, and I've been practicing with it all afternoon. I'm quite good at it, really. I've not missed a target yet." Dudley's hand caressed the cloth-covered knife while he talked. When he saw that Harry's attention was on the object in his hands, he slowly removed the covering, exposing the shining blade. 

  
  


*********************************

  
  


"Dudley, you can't be serious," Harry whispered. "You can't possibly think you can get away with this."

  
  


Dudley shook his head. "I don't know what you mean," he said innocently. "I'm only going to show you how well I throw. Isn't that right, Reggie? Milton?"

  
  


"You are just going to scare him, aren't you Dudley?" squeaked Milton. "I mean, you aren't really going to, you know, stab him, are you?"

  
  


"Of course he's only going to scare him. Dudley wouldn't actually aim at him. Would you?" Reginald tried to make his shaking voice sound confident. Dudley didn't reply. He gave the blade a final swipe with the cloth and balanced the blade in his palm. "Let's see how close I can get." He winked at Reginald and smiled. Reginald smiled back, convinced that Dudley would only come close to Harry. After all, he'd demonstrated his remarkable prowess earlier and Reginald felt certain that Dudley's aim was true. He nodded reassuringly to Milton and pulled tighter on Harry's arm. Milton did the same, both boys wanting to make sure that Harry didn't accidently move into the knife's path.

  
  


Dudley hefted the knife a final time to test its weight and pulled his hand back. He aimed for the space above Harry's head and let the dagger fly.

  
  



	3. Chapter Four

  
  


Part Four: Angel of Mercy

  
  


The young woman walked cautiously into the woods, her sweater pulled close around her as if to ward off the chill of foreboding that ran down her spine. From the time Glynnis Babcock was twelve, she'd been able to sense when something untoward was about to happen. Her father had called it instinct, her mother said it was women's intuition, and her sister had laughingly called it an uncanny ability to put herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whatever it was, she had found that when the small hairs on the back her neck started to prickle, unusual things were brewing and the prickles had started about ten minutes ago when three boys had run from these woods. Glynnis had seen them from the meadow where she sat reading and knew at once that something was wrong. The feeling hadn't come from the boys themselves but from the place they'd left.

  
  


"You are out of your mind, Glynnie," she mused aloud as she quietly stepped out of the sunlight into the dim, green-tinged light of the woods. "One of these days you'll learn to ignore these little tugs and Mother will once again sleep peacefully in her bed. Now if you know what's good for you you'll shut up and go home." Having said this, she tossed her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and continued walking in defiance of her own advice. She knew she would not go home.

  
  


"Fine thing, this. Spend your day off from hospital chasing down phantoms in the woods," she continued to herself in a whisper as she went deeper into the trees. She stopped and squinted ahead. The trees were thinning out and the light was brighter. She could see an open patch of ground. Glynnis crept forward slowly, knowing instinctively that whatever had brought her to this place was just ahead. She moved a few feet further and peeked into what appeared to be a small clearing. Suddenly, a feeling of inevitability so intense swept over her that she gasped and leaned against a tree for support. She knew as certainly as she knew her own name that her destiny waited in the clearing beyond. Glynnis took several deep breaths and tried to calm her racing heart. 'There will be no turning back.' The words echoed clearly in her mind. 

  
  


"Glynnie, get a grip," she told her self sternly. "You've not turned your back on anything in this life and you won't start now. It's time to trust those instincts of yours." Glynnis took one last deep breath and pushed away from the tree that supported her. She straightened her back and faced the clearing. 

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Pain. That was the first thing that alerted Harry to the fact that he wasn't dead. It lanced through his shoulder and radiated throughout his body. He moaned aloud, it was so intense. The imbedded knife felt as if it were pulsing. With each pulse, Harry felt his strength desert him. "I must have lost a lot of blood to feel so weak," he thought with the first tinges of panic. Then Harry heard the sound of approaching footsteps and, fearful that Dudley had returned to finish what he'd started, Harry tried to sit up. The world around him began to fade and the pain tripled as he attempted to push himself off the ground. He flopped back down and tried to stifle a cry behind his hand but to no avail, the sound of his agony echoed through the trees. 

  
  


Harry was dimly aware that the footsteps stopped for a second and then increased to a run. "Whoever it is can't be Dudley. They aren't wheezing enough." The thought was small comfort. "It could be one of the other two boys . . . " 

  
  


"Oh my God!" gasped a quiet, female voice. Harry turned his head to see who was there. "Oh, no, don't move! Lie still." A woman came into Harry's line of sight. She was quite obviously distressed at the sight of him lying on the ground, a knife sticking out of his chest. "Please," Harry whispered. "will you get help?" His words seem to prompt a reaction from her, because she dropped to her knees and began to take off her sweater. Harry watched with widening eyes as she started to pull off the T-shirt underneath. "What . . . " Harry croaked, his eyes nearly bugging at the sight of her exposed bra.

  
  


"I need to stop the bleeding," came the muffled reply from under the shirt. Once her head was clear she quickly put her sweater back on and tore the T-shirt in half. Harry must have looked at her as if she'd suddenly gone stark raving mad because she smiled and said "I'm making a bandage" rip "to secure the knife" rip "so it won't slip and to wrap" rip "around the base to staunch the bleeding." rip

  
  


Her smile widened. "It must seem odd, some strange woman shows up at your side and immediately starts to remove her clothes. So, let's make it seem less strange, shall we? My name is Glynnis. And just so you know I'm not totally insane, I should tell you I'm also a nurse." 

  
  


"I'm Harry," he whispered. 

  
  


"Well, Harry. I'm going to start by packing some of this cloth against the base of the wound, alright? It's going to hurt, but I'll try my best to be very gentle. Ready?" 

  
  


Harry nodded slightly. She had light red hair and very brown eyes. Something about her seemed somewhat familiar but he couldn't pin it down. She seemed to sense his gaze and smiled at him again. "I've got to hold the hilt while I wrap the cloth around the wound, alright?" Harry nodded. "Can you try and hold very still?" Harry nodded again and looked away as her hand reached for the dragon's head. 

  
  


Glynnis' cry of surprise mingled with his own scream of agony. The second she had touched the hilt, the dragon blade had released a surge of energy that seared into his flesh like fire. He jerked his head back in her direction and saw, with growing alarm, his would be rescuer flying across the clearing as if having been thrown. She landed on the ground with a thump. She sat up slowly and shook her head. Then she stared at Harry with fearful eyes. "What is that thing?" she asked, her voice a frightened whisper, her pointed finger shaking. "That knife. I reached for it and it just . . . I don't know . . . it was like a jolt of electricity or something. It just seemed to throw me away, like it didn't want me to touch you." Glynnis shook her head as if to clear it. 

  
  


Harry looked down at the knife and saw the dragon's eyes glaring at Glynnis. He groaned. He'd forgotten that the dagger was wizard made. Harry closed his eyes and tried desperately to think of something, anything, that would explain what just happened. 

  
  


Glynnis watched the boy's face contort in confusion and pain. She picked herself up and shuffled to his side. Harry felt her hand on his good shoulder and looked up at her. "I'm sorry," he said weakly. "I didn't know it would do that." Glynnis leaned closer. "Harry," she said softly, "what is this thing?" she asked, her gaze drawn to the dragon. 

  
  


Harry turned away. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes and he just shook his head. "I can't tell you. You should just go now." Glynnis lifted her hand and laid it gently against Harry's cheek and turned his face to hers. "I will not go now," she told him firmly. "I don't know who you think I am but I, for one, do not leave injured children alone in the woods. So please put that thought from your mind and help me figure out what to do, alright?" Harry raised his eyes to hers and saw that she meant it. Here was someone who would not leave him. That thought alone threatened more tears. He blinked rapidly to dispel them and nodded. 

  
  


"Right then," Glynnis smiled and she smoothed back the hair on Harry's forehead. The lightening shaped scar stood out starkly against the pale white skin. Glynnis' smile faded as she stared down at it. "I should have known," she breathed. "You're Harry Potter."

  
  



	4. Chapter Three

  
  


Part Three: Black's Return

  
  


Sirius Black smiled broadly as he apparated into Harry's room. "Surprise!" he said happily. It took him a moment of looking about to realize that Harry was not surprised because Harry was not there. "Where is he?" Sirius asked Hedwig, who'd just returned as well. Hedwig only hooted and retreated to her cage for a nap. 

  
  


Sirius watched the owl stretch her wings and settle comfortably into sleep and then he, too, yawned and stretched. The past few weeks had been tiring, both physically and mentally. He'd tracked down numerous friends who'd been more than willing to contact Albus Dumbledore and discuss strategies on how best to deal with Voldemort's return. He'd also found many wizards who were either unwilling to believe that Voldemort had actually returned or who'd been too frightened to even consider fighting against him. All in all, he'd traveled hundreds of miles in a very few days and was totally done in. "You've got the right idea, old girl," he muttered to Hedwig as he surveyed Harry's bed. He sat down on the edge and fell backwards, sighing at the feel of a soft mattress under his aching back. 

  
  


Sirius had received Harry's letter a few days ago and decided that, rather than send a reply by owl, he would take some time to see his godson. He could tell that Harry was unhappy. Not that Harry had said so directly. It was just that over the past year he had learned that he could tell more about what was going on in Harry's life by what Harry didn't tell him. And unless he was mistaken, and he doubted he was, Harry wasn't as okay with what had happened to him during the tournament as he let on. "Who would be?" Sirius thought. "Knowing that you had been set up for failure, watching helplessly as a schoolmate was tortured and killed, seeing your parents emerge from the wand that murdered them." He sighed and closed his eyes. Everyone thought Harry was so strong. And he was, but he was still a fourteen-year-old boy. A boy who had been through some remarkable things in his life "and had lived to be haunted by them," Sirius thought morosely. He yawned again and let his head sink deeper into the pillow. He'd set a locking spell on the door when he first realized Harry wasn't there and now no one but Harry would be able to open it. This done, he felt comfortable enough to catch up on some much needed rest. "I hope Harry doesn't come home too soon," he admitted ruefully to himself. Then he chuckled. "I wonder what that Muggle woman would do if she only knew that Harry Potter's criminal godfather was sleeping right above her head." He let pleasant images of Aunt Petunia's reaction drift behind his closed eyes and quickly fell asleep.

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Harry watched as Dudley drew back his arm and threw. In his eyes, the whole thing happened very slowly. The blade arced up, turning end over end, flashing brightly. The dragon's emerald eyes glinted in the sun that filtered through the trees. Harry imagined he could hear the whine of the razor sharp edge as it cut the air in front of him. He could hear his heart racing and the excited breathing of Reginald and Milton as they followed the knife's trail. Harry watched in fascinated horror as the blade came closer. He realized with a rush of relief that knife's path would take it into the tree well above his head and he released the breath he'd been holding and closed his eyes. It was with some amazement that Harry felt something slam into his body. He opened his eyes and looked down with dawning horror at the dragon hilt protruding from his right shoulder, just under his collarbone. Bright red blood oozed onto his shirt. He stared, mesmerized, at the growing stain until Reginald's strangled scream brought him back to reality. 

  
  


"Du . . . Dud . . . What did you do!? I thought you were aiming over his head! I thought you were only going to scare him!" Reginald's hysterical rantings were an eloquent counterpoint to Milton's grunts of incredulous terror as he pointed at Harry's shoulder. 

  
  


Dudley could only stare as if he didn't quite believe what he was seeing. He looked at his hand and back to Harry several times with his mouth moving but no sound coming out. "I didn't . . . I mean I wasn't . . . It wasn't . . . " Dudley managed to croak after a moment. His beady eyes grew wide as he continued to stare until Harry wondered dully if they were going to pop out of his head. 

  
  


"What are we going to do?" whispered Reginald hoarsely. He looked around to see if they had been observed. He and Milton looked desperately at one another, and then, as if by silent assent, they dropped Harry's arms and broke into a panicked run. Dudley watched them leave and then, without a backward glance, he followed them, leaving Harry utterly alone.

  
  


Harry stared after them, his arms tingling from the sudden release of pressure. He looked down at his shoulder again, still not sure he wasn't just dreaming this. He raised his left hand and gingerly touched his fingers to his blood-soaked shirt. "This isn't real," he thought, "this can't be happening." Harry's knees felt weak and he slid down the tree and landed with a jarring thud on the ground. Sensation ripped through his shoulder and he gasped at the intensity. He looked down at the protruding dragon hilt and blinked in surprise. The dragon was looking at him. Harry blinked again but the emerald eyes never wavered from Harry's face. Harry slowly moved his hand up toward the dragon's head. He flexed his fingers and grabbed the hilt, determined to pull the blade out. He cried out in alarm and pain as the dragon's sharp teeth dug into his hand. He yanked his hand away and stared at the jagged wound between his thumb and finger. He looked again at the dragon and it bared its teeth in challenge. It was then that Harry realized that this was not any ordinary dagger. It was wizard made. And there was only one person he could think of who would go to such trouble. 

  
  


"Voldemort." The name escaped Harry's lips before he could stop it. And as if it had been waiting for Harry to utter that very word, the dragon snarled and the blade became a piercing shaft of white-hot agony. Through the pain that seemed to tear him apart, Harry heard someone screaming, and then there was only blackness.

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Sirius Black awoke with a start. The same sharp instincts that had kept him alive since his escape from Azkaban warned him that danger was near. Several sets of feet were running up the stairs. He sat up and reached for his wand. Then he heard the door to the next room open. There was a shuffling of feet and the door closed with a bang. Sirius forced himself to relax and tuned his ears to the sounds around him. He picked up a furtive whispering coming from the next room but couldn't make out what was being said. "Vox amplificatus," he whispered as he pointed his wand at the wall. 

  
  
  
  


"Dudley, what in hell were you thinking! We are going to be in so much trouble. I mean my mum, my dad, for God's sake, they'll kill me when they find out!" 

  
  


Sirius listened curiously. "So, the wonderful Dudley has really gotten himself into something this time," he thought gleefully. 

  
  


"I should've known you really didn't know what you were doing! Come on Reggie, let's get out of here before his parents find out, else they'll blame us." 

  
  


"Milton, we can't. I mean we have to go back and help him!"

  
  


"NO!" Sirius jumped as the amplified voice resounded in the room. "I won't go back! I won't! Suppose the police are there. Suppose he's told them. I have to stay here and so do you. You have to say we've been here all afternoon . . . that it couldn't have been us!"

  
  


"Who'd believe us?" Sirius recognized Milton's voice. 

  
  


"Who wouldn't? I mean it's his word against ours and no one will listen to him! He's always been strange and I know my mum and dad hate him. They'd never believe anything he said. He's done awful stuff to us anyway, and they'd say he deserved it." Something about the way Dudley said this brought Sirius surging to his feet. The hairs on the back of his neck tightened and he leaned forward, willing the boys to say more. There was silence in the next room and all the amplification spell picked up was the three boys' ragged breathing. 

  
  


"Are you sure?" Milton asked.

  
  


"Oh, yes. Quite sure. If we just stick together and get our story straight no one will ever know."

Dudley sounded quite convinced and Sirius could almost hear the other two boys thinking it over.

  
  


"I don't know, "Reginald chimed in, "we really should go back. I mean you stabbed him, Dudley. He could die! We ought to at least call someone and tell them where he is." Sirius' blood froze. Dudley laughed, a cold laugh that was hard and bitter. "Him die?" Dudley snorted. "He can't die. Didn't I ever tell you? He's a wizard."

  
  


Sirius felt the blood drain from his face and he sat down hard on the bed. "Harry's been stabbed. Harry's been stabbed," repeated like a litany through his head. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. He could only picture Harry, who had been through so much, lying in his own blood somewhere with Sirius helpless to find him. Suddenly Sirius was filled with a rage borne of his own helplessness. Everything he'd done wrong screamed at him at once; his mistake that led to Lily and James's murder, his not fighting to get custody of Harry when it happened, his absence when Harry faced Voldemort his first year at Hogwarts and again this year, his failure to be around when Harry needed him most. Sirius raised his wand and let all the anger and frustration boil out of him in one loud cry. The wall between Harry's room and Dudley's disintegrated in a shower of plaster. Dudley, Reginald and Milton all yelled in terror and ran, cowering, to the opposite side of the room, trying to put as much distance between them and the falling debris as possible. They stared in stunned fascination at the billowing dust that had once been Dudley's wall. It was Reginald who first raised a shaking finger at the diminishing cloud. "What's . . . that?" he croaked, his eyes wide with terror. Milton and Dudley slowly turned to look and saw a tall, cloaked figure approaching through the jagged opening. Their mouths gaped open as the strange man came closer. His long, matted hair and wild eyes gave him a fiendish quality in the dust filtered light. It only when he stood before them that they noticed the long, slim wand he held in his hand. Dudley cried out in fright and tried to press himself behind his friends. The nightmare looked directly at him and spoke. "Where is Harry?"


	5. Chapter Five

  
  


Part Five: Truth and Consequence 

  
  
  
  


Dudley stared in horror at the wand pointed directly at him while Reginald and Milton gaped at the man holding it. 

  
  


"I'll ask you one more time, Muggle, where is Harry?" Sirius' quiet voice rang ominously in the dusty room. He enunciated each word with a razor like precision and there could be no doubting whom he was talking about. Dudley opened his mouth but no words came out, only a terrified squeak. He swallowed and tried again. "Who . . . who are y . . . y . . . you?" he stuttered, his voice cracking slightly at the end. 

  
  


Sirius smiled down at the boy, a ghastly smile that promised nasty consequences. "His godfather." 

  
  


Dudley stared blankly at the strange apparition in his bedroom for a moment, then the identity of his visitor dawned on him with brilliant clarity. His face became a contorted mask of terror and screamed and clawed at the wall behind him, looking for an escape. "IT'S HIM! IT'S HIM! HE'S GOING TO KILL US ALL!" Reginald and Milton tried vainly to grab Dudley's flailing arms and hold him still. Dudley's fat fists slammed into their faces, drawing blood from Milton's nose and landing squarely on Reginald's eye. Both boys yelped in pain and left Dudley to fend for himself. 

  
  


"Stupify!" The spell echoed in the suddenly still room. Sirius looked at the three motionless bullies and decided that using one against the other would be the only way he could find Harry. He pointed his wand at Reginald. He seemed the most likely to tell him what he wanted to know. "Enervate."

  
  


Reginald realized with a start that he was no longer frozen in place. He looked wildly around and saw that his cousin and Dudley remained motionless beside him. He slowly raised fearful eyes at the dark specter before him. "What did you do to them?" he croaked. 

  
  


"I quieted them down. I shall release them eventually, but not until you tell me where my godson is." 

  
  


"Henry?" asked Reginald, trying to sound innocent.

  
  


"His name is Harry," Sirius ground out through clenched teeth, "and if you don't tell me everything you know immediately, I will leave you in the same state as these other two for the rest of your very short life."

  
  


Reginald swallowed. "He's in the park," he whispered, "in the little woods."

  
  


"What did you do to him?" Sirius was deadly calm, only his clenched hand on the wand betrayed his desperation.

  
  


"I...I didn't do anything! Honest! It was Dudley. Dudley was throwing a knife and he missed and it hit Hen . . . I mean Harry. Dudley was aiming over his head. I'm sure of it. He wouldn't really hurt him, would he? I mean I don't think he would . . . "

  
  


"SHUT UP!" The roared command stopped Reginald's rambling. "Dudley threw a knife at Harry?"

  
  


Reginald nodded.

  
  


"Harry stood still and let Dudley throw a knife at him?"

  
  


"Not exactly," Reginald admitted weakly.

  
  


"How exactly did it happen, then?" Sirius penetrating gaze pinned the boy to the floor better than any spell could have. Reginald began to sweat and panic filled his eyes.

  
  


"Um . . . well . . . uh . . . I . . . I mean we . . . "

  
  


Sirius moved the wand forward an inch or two.

  
  


"Milton and I were holding his arms so he couldn't move!" Reginald admitted in a rush. "But we didn't know he was going to do it! We only thought he was going to scare him!"

  
  


"SILENCE!" Sirius roared. He thought of Harry being held captive while Dudley used him for target practice and his stomach turned. Fighting down the urge to be sick, he took several deep breaths, his eyes never leaving the cowering boy in front of him. "Enervate."

  
  


Dudley and Milton jerked abruptly as the spell released them. They took in Reginald's hanging head and Sirius' rage and knew they had been exposed. 

  
  


Sirius looked directly at Dudley. "Where did you get the knife? From your doting parents?" he sneered.

  
  


"It was given to him. By a peddler," Milton offered when Dudley didn't speak.

  
  


"A peddler." Sirius wasn't buying it. Peddlers didn't go around giving knives to people, at least he didn't think so. Wizard peddlers didn't, that was certain. He wasn't so sure about Muggle ones.

  
  


"Yes. Old Tom. He said his name was Old Tom something." Reginald was trying desperately to gain some favor with this crazed maniac. He would tell him whatever he wanted to know. 

  
  


"Old Tom?" An unpleasant feeling began to take shape in Sirius' gut.

  
  


"Riddle." Sirius turned abruptly to face Dudley, not certain he had heard the small sound escape the boy's lips.

  
  


"What did you say?" he demanded.

  
  


Dudley's eyes darted around the room. His fear was a living thing but for some reason he couldn't stop himself from speaking. "Riddle. His name was Tom Riddle."

  
  


Sirius' heart stopped. His breath congealed in his chest and his head swam. Voldemort had given Dudley a knife to kill Harry. It was as certain as daylight. Dudley, Reginald and Milton noticed the wizard's sudden hesitation and as a whole, tried to move toward the door. Sirius stopped them with a look. 

  
  


"Since you so enjoy practicing with knives, I shall give you some more to play with. I hope that you will learn a lesson from this but I doubt it." Sirius voice whispered eerily in the boys' ears. At once they were held up, as if by unseen arms, and pinned against the wall. From nowhere came a whizzing sound and daggers of all shapes and sizes loomed out of the dust toward them. They struggled frantically as the sharp blades came closer but the invisible bonds were unmoveable. One by one the knives slammed into the wall, catching pieces of the boys' clothing until they were tacked up like posters. 

  
  


Sirius took in the three helpless forms and nodded with satisfaction. Then he approached Dudley and leaned into this face. "I will be back for you, have no doubt." He then turned to the other two. "If Harry isn't where you said he was, if he's not alive when I find him, I will return for you as well." And with that he turned and was gone, leaving only the settling dust and the smell of Dudley's soiled pants.

  
  
  
  


*********************************

  
  


Harry stared at Glynnis. "How do you know my name?" he asked incredulously. Glynnis laughed. "It's a small world, Harry. Have you ever heard that?" Harry nodded. "Well," she continued, "I know a friend of yours. Quite well, actually."

  
  


"A friend of mine? But I don't have any Muggle friends." 

  
  


"A school friend," Glynnis said meaningfully. 

  
  


Harry's mouth hung open. "You know about Hogwarts?" 

  
  


She nodded. "Yes. I know quite a lot about it actually. I know that you won the Triwizard Tournament. I know that Ron Weasley is one of your best friends. And I know that you excel in Quidditch. I also know that you hate a certain potions professor and your godfather is a dog."

  
  


"He isn't a dog. He can turn into a dog," Harry replied dully. "But how do you know all this? Do you know the Weasleys?"

  
  


"No, not the Weasleys. Someone else. Someone who fights for the underdog. Or should I say underelf? Or underhippogriff? Does this sound like anyone you know?" Glynnis beamed as she saw understanding dawn in his eyes.

  
  


"You know Hermione," he stated.

  
  


"Yes! Not only do I know her, I'm her aunt, and, unfortunately, she gets her teeth from my side of the family."

  
  


"You're Aunt Lynn!" Harry said wondrously. "Hermione's talked about you."

  
  


"Nothing good, I hope," Glynnis laughed. 

  
  


"Then you know about wizards."

  
  


"Yes." Her smile vanished. "And I know that this thing," she pointed to the dragon's head which was eyeing her warily and shuddered, "is way beyond my understanding. Harry, I need to get help. Where should I go? Whom can I call?" 

  
  


Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. "There's no one," he said sadly. "I don't know where Hedwig is. She's my owl. She could take a message to the Weasleys or to Professor Dumbledore. I thought about going to Diagon Alley but . . . " Glynnis interrupted him. "Diagon Alley? Isn't that the wizard street?"

  
  


Harry nodded. 

  
  


"Could I go there for you? I could bring back help."

  
  


"I wish you could," Harry sighed. "But you won't find it. Only wizarding folk can see the Black Cauldron, that's the entrance from the street. And I don't think I could make it myself. Glynnis, I feel very weak. Have I lost that much blood?" Harry's anxious eyes glittered with tears of pain and frustration. Glynnis' brow furrowed with concern and her tone became professional.

  
  


"You have lost some blood, but not that much, really. Tell me about the pain Harry. Is it sharp, dull?"

  
  


Harry centered his thoughts deep in his shoulder. "It's a pulsing pain."

  
  


"Pulsing. Like with your heartbeat?"

  
  


"No. Like the blade is pulsing, like it's alive." Harry looked away. "I think its Voldemort's doing." At the very mention of the dark wizard's name, another stab of white-hot agony shot through Harry's body. He cried out, his good hand reaching unconsciously for Glynnis. She grabbed onto him and he clutched at her. Blackness dimmed the edges of Harry's sight and cruel laughter echoed through his head. The scar on his forehead began to pulse in time with the blade, sending waves of misery through his head. He heard someone yell and then the blackness took over. 

  
  


Glynnis felt Harry's hand go slack in hers and she laid shaking fingers against his neck, sighing with relief at the steady pulse she found. She put her head in her hands and leaned back, the sound of Harry's shout ringing in her ears. "He's laughing. I can hear him." She didn't need to ask who 'he' was. She heard enough stories about "he-who-must-not-be-named" from Hermione to know. Harry's parents dead, Harry's life threatened time and time again, Harry bringing back his friend's lifeless body, Harry lying dead here on the ground with her sitting by helplessly. These images came unbidden to Glynnis' mind, as clear and focused as if she'd witnessed them herself. "Glynnie, you've always had too active an imagination," she chided sternly as she mentally shook herself. A slight moan was all she needed to snap herself entirely back to the present. She laid a hand gently on Harry's cheek, calling his name softly as his eyelids fluttered open. 

  
  


He looked up at Glynnis' pale, anxious face and tried to smile reassuringly. "Oh, that hurt. Remind me not to say his name again, alright?" Harry's at a light tone brought a faint answering smile to Glynnis lips. "That would probably be best," she agreed with a nod. Harry sighed and tried to shift slightly in an endeavor to relieve some of the ache that was settling into the rest of his body. He winced as Glynnis, knowing he must be getting uncomfortable, eased her arms under him and helped him move a little. When she'd settled him into a better position, Glynnis' eyes settled on his and her face took on a serious look.

  
  


"Harry, I want to try and get your shirt open. I think you are bleeding again but I want to see for certain. If there's enough blade showing, I might be able to pack some bandages around it, without touching the hilt. Do you think you could manage if I ripped your shirt a little, near the knife?" Harry wanted to tell her no, but his hand squeezed hers gently. Glynnis smiled reassuringly and released Harry's hand. In all the years she'd been a nurse, nothing had fazed her. She had watched people die, watched people in pain, watched all kinds of surgeries done to all kinds of people and nothing, nothing had affected her like this. Was it because this boy was a friend of her dear Hermione? Was it because she knew his past, knew how awful his life had been? Or was it because this wizard made knife scared her to death? Glynnis wasn't sure. All she did know was that Harry had, in the last few minutes, touched a part of her she thought long buried. She was certain their destinies were linked somehow. And she couldn't let him die. She took a deep breath to steady her shaking hands and reached out toward Harry.

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Sirius cursed inwardly as he ran in the direction of the park, his black shaggy form generally ignored by the people he passed. He wished he'd had the courage to kill Dudley back at the house, but he had resigned himself years ago to the fact that he wasn't a murderer at heart. He hated himself for allowing Dumbledore to talk him into sending Harry back to these Muggles. He should have demanded that he stay with the Weasleys or himself, or even at Hogwarts for that matter. All of them should have realized that Voldemort at full power was strong enough to find Harry anywhere, even on quiet Privet Drive. 

  
  


Not for the first time in his life was he grateful he was animagi, and his form a dog. The powerful nose of his current shape allowed him to track Harry with very little difficulty. Unfortunately, as he got closer to the park, his nose picked up the unmistakable smell of blood. Harry's blood. He stopped momentarily and honed in on the scent, then bounded off at tremendous speed toward a small copse of trees. Sirius slowed when he reached the perimeter of the small wood and crept forward on silent paws toward the place he knew Harry to be. Someone else was here. 

  
  


He came through the trees and saw a young woman kneeling over Harry. Fear burned through Sirius like lightening when he saw her hands working near the knife. He leapt forward in a surge of power and bowled the woman over. They tumbled together for a few yards and stopped when her head loudly connected with a tree. She lay unmoving beneath him and as he stood over her, growling, he heard Harry yelling.

  
  



	6. Chapter Six

  
  


Part Six: A Glimpse of Destiny 

  
  


Voldemort knew the exact second the cursed blade struck Harry. A searing pain ripped into his shoulder and then a numbness spread across his chest. He laughed, for he knew it wouldn't be long before Harry figured out who was responsible and said the word that would begin the transfer of energy. Voldemort lowered himself into a chair, his own strength failing as the blade opened a channel between them. He forced himself to slow his excited breathing and sit quietly, waiting. Before long the blade tingled slightly and then a surge of energy flowed into the dark wizard. He bellowed in triumph and stood, the power filling him, completing him. Voldemort knew that before long his very form would change. Every feature from his deathly pale skin to his red, slitted eyes would transform. He would no longer look like the terrifying monster whose face was known throughout the world. 

  
  


"My lord! Master, are you alright?" Wormtail yelled, panting, as he ran into the room. "I heard you yell . . . " Whatever Wormtail might have said died on his lips as he gaped at his master. "Your face." he whispered. "What's happening to your face?"

  
  


Voldemort ran to the mirror and touched his already changing face. The tight skin around his chin and nose was filling out. His hands were gaining flesh. He smiled a cruel smile at his reflection and the red eyes glowed with evil pleasure. Before the Potter boy took his last breath, Voldemort's own servant wouldn't recognize him.

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Sirius Black transformed back into his human form and ran to Harry, who had managed to get himself up off the ground. He was kneeling, struggling to stand as he stared horrified at his new friend, unconscious in the dirt. 

  
  


"Harry? Let's go, quickly. We need to get you help." Sirius took in the dragon hilt and Harry's blood-covered shirt and put a restraining arm across Harry's shoulders, trying to keep him still. 

  
  


Harry looked at his godfather. "You have to help her!" he pleaded. "She was trying to help me. She's not dead, is she?" Sirius noticed the strips of cloth wrapped around the blade, obviously put there to staunch the bleeding. He blanched at his mistake and looked Harry in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry. I thought she was hurting you. She's not dead. I'll check on her if you promise to stay still." Harry nodded dully and sat back on his legs. He watched anxiously as Sirius checked Glynnis over. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw her move.

  
  


Glynnis heard a loud roaring in her ears and the back of her head ached abominably. She sensed that someone was very close to her and felt a touch on her hand. She opened her eyes and only the pain in her head kept her from sitting upright in shock. A man with long, matted hair wearing robes that looked as if they'd been used for everything from sleeping bag to towel was crouched beside her. His painfully thin face sagged with relief when she looked at him with clear eyes. Glynnis glanced around toward Harry and saw him kneeling, his eyes glued on her. He too seemed relieved to see she was awake. Glynnis looked back at the man over her. "Harry should be lying down," she announced in a pained voice. The man nodded. "I know. But he wanted to make sure I hadn't done you any lasting damage." Glynnis' forehead wrinkled in thought as she tried to piece together the events of the last few minutes. She remembered a loud growling and then a huge black blur running toward her. There was no one who looked like this in her memory. Then something tugged at the back of her mind and she smiled up at the careworn face over hers. "You must be Harry's godfather, the dog." 

  
  


Sirius stared at her for a moment, completely taken aback. Then the desperate absurdity of the whole situation dawned on him and he laughed, a weak, rusty, unused thing, but a laugh nonetheless. He smiled down at the woman beneath him. "I guess that pretty much sums it up." 

  
  


Glynnis' heart stopped dead in her chest when the strange man smiled. His entire face transformed and the handsome visage buried beneath the worry lines and haggard features burned into her mind like a cool fire. She simply stared at him and full reality dawned on her. Harry had brought her here, but Harry was not her destiny. 

  
  


Sirius' smile erased into an anxious frown when Glynnis stopped breathing. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked worriedly. Glynnis nodded her head slightly and then wished she hadn't. The slight motion brought the dull pain in her head into a full-blown headache. She started to sit up and grasped Sirius' offered hand for assistance. Once standing, she leaned against him until the trees stopped spinning. 

  
  


Sirius put an arm around the woman leaning against him. He knew she must be dizzy and he waited until she looked up at him before removing his arm. He stared into her large, dark eyes and deep within his mind his subconscious blinked. He'd never met this person, he was sure of it, but something in him responded to her, as if an old friend had called his name out in a crowd. It wasn't until he saw her lips move that he realized she was speaking. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "What did you say?" 

  
  


"I said 'Hello. I'm Glynnis'."

  
  


Sirius stood tongue tied. For some strange reason he couldn't respond, only stare. Glynnis stared back at him, for a moment. Then her mouth curled up mischievously. "Do you have a name or should I simply call you Rover?"

  
  


"Rover?" Sirius asked, his puzzlement evident on his face. "No. It's Sirius. Sirius Black."

  
  


"Well, then Sirius Black, don't you suppose you could let go of me and we could see to Harry?" Sirius looked down and discovered that the steadying arm he thought he'd removed from her back a moment ago was still wound around her waist. He released her abruptly and stepped back, all his attention focused once again on his godson. Sirius and Glynnis reached Harry at the same time and they knelt next to him. 

  
  


"Are you okay, Glynnis?" Harry asked. 

  
  


Glynnis ruffled his hair gently. "I'm fine. Just a knock on the head. Nothing more than I got from your little friend there." Her eyes fell to the dragon hilt which was eyeing Sirius and baring its teeth. Startled, Sirius looked at her. "You tried to touch the hilt?" Glynnis nodded. "What happened?" 

  
  


"It tossed me across the clearing," Glynnis answered with a wince. "It was somewhat less enthusiastic about it than yourself, but I got the message."

  
  


Sirius looked at Harry. "Harry, I know you've figured out that this knife is wizard made. But . . . " Sirius stopped abruptly and looked at Glynnis. Harry could tell what he was thinking. 

  
  


"It's alright, Sirius. Glynnis know everything."

  
  


Sirius nodded hesitantly. "I found out from Dursley that the knife was sent by . . . "

  
  


"DON'T SAY IT!" 

  
  


Harry and Glynnis' shout cut off Sirius words. Harry was white with fear and Glynnis was clutching Harry's hand tightly. "Whenever I say his name," Harry panted, "it hurts."

  
  


Glynnis looked at Sirius with pleading eyes. "I don't know what might happen if anyone else says it, but please believe me, Harry can't take another round of whatever this thing dishes out when it hears the name." Sirius passed a hand over his eyes as it occurred to him what kind of blade this might be. He nodded with closed eyes and sighed. "We've got to get you out of here, Harry. I know a doctor who may be able to help, but I don't know where I can take you. Hogwarts isn't safe. Hogsmeade isn't safe. I'd take you to the Shrieking Shack but I'm certain it's being watched by now."

  
  


"What about Diagon Alley?" asked Glynnis.

  
  


Sirius eyed her suspiciously. "What do you know about Diagon Alley?"

  
  


"Sirius." Harry's pleading voice drew his gaze. "Glynnis is Hermione's aunt. When I said she knows everything I meant everything. You can trust her." Sirius drew Harry into an awkward embrace. "I trusted Dumbledore with your life and look what happened," he mumbled brokenly into Harry's hair. "I have almost you more times in the past few years than I can stand. Are you sure you can trust this Muggle with your secrets? With your life?"

  
  


Harry pulled back as best he could and put his left hand against Sirius' face. "Yes," he said. 

  
  


Glynnis watched as Sirius and Harry looked at each other, silently pleading for the other to see things their way. Finally, after a long moment, Sirius looked at Glynnis. "You'll help us then?" She nodded and voiced the question she'd been pondering. "Does Harry have to go to a wizard place for this doctor to see him?" 

  
  


Sirius sighed. "I'd settle for somewhere safe and out of the way. I'm still wanted by both Muggle and Wizard authorities. And after what happened at the Dursley's, things are bound to heat up again." Harry gasped. "What did you do?" Sirius flinched and told them what he'd done. To his surprise and relief, Glynnis chuckled. He looked at her quizzically and she shrugged. "He got what he deserved, the little rotter," she said seriously. "Still, though, I would've done worse in your shoes. I admire your self restraint." She saluted Sirius jauntily and smiled at Harry. Harry smiled weakly in return and then sagged against Sirius, his face strained. 

  
  


Glynnis turned to Sirius. "I don't live far from here," she said. "It's the last house on a dead end street and it's fairly secluded. My backyard borders the park. We can be there in ten minutes." Sirius met her anxious gaze. He didn't want to trust her but the feeling that he knew her was still deep inside him, compelling him to listen. Glynnis watched him at war with himself and was vastly relieved to see his curt nod. Then, with a strength that belied his gaunt frame, he scooped Harry up into his arms and motioned her to lead the way. 

  
  



	7. Chapter Seven

  
  


Part Seven: The Gifts We Are Given

  
  


Sirius followed Glynnis as she led the way to her home. She skirted around the edge of the park, wanting take the least visible route, and came out at her gate ten minutes later, just as she'd said. "In here," she said to Sirius as she opened the wooden, vine-covered gate. He eased Harry a little higher in his arms, ducked under the iron trellis and stepped into a wildflower garden in full bloom. Sirius didn't stop to admire the beautiful blossoms as he followed Glynnis down a grassy path and up to the small back door of a quaint old cottage. 

  
  


Glynnis reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a key. She unlocked the door and pushed it open, gesturing Sirius inside. Once he'd entered, she pulled the door closed and turned on the lights. They were in a small, cheery kitchen decorated with flower pots and blooming herbs. "This way." Glynnis beckoned Sirius down a small hall and into a bright, airy bedroom. He lay Harry down on the dark green coverlet. Glynnis saw immediately that Harry was unconscious. She raised questioning eyes to Sirius. "Just after we started off," he answered. He motioned to the fireplace that took up half of the bedroom's outer wall. "May I?" Glynnis nodded and watched in fascination as he ignited the stacked wood with a single word and a wave of his wand. A quiet sound from the bed brought her instantly to Harry's side.

  
  


"Harry?" she inquired quietly. "Can you hear me?" Harry's eyes fluttered open. "Are we there?" he asked.

  
  


"We're here," she assured him. "Harry, I'm going to get my scissors and cut away around the knife. You just rest here with Sirius and I'll be right back." She glanced at Sirius and walked out of the room. Sirius sat on the edge of the bed and ran the back of his hand across Harry's forehead. He frowned slightly at the heat he felt but only said "I've got to leave you here, Harry, while I go and get someone to help us."

  
  


"Who?" Harry asked.

  
  


"I have a doctor friend. Well, I should say I had a doctor friend. Years ago, before . . . well, you know." Harry nodded sympathetically as Sirius continued. "He may be willing to help seeing as it's you. I've at least got to try." 

  
  


Sirius stood and Harry reached out to grab his hand. "What if this doctor turns you in? What if he calls the Dementors?" Sirius could see that Harry was as terrified of losing him as he was of losing Harry. He tried to smile but only grimaced instead. "I'll come back. If I'm wrong about Attivus, I'll leave immediately. I'm using floo powder so they won't be able to track me, especially since this is a non-magical household. Just hang on for a little while longer, Harry." He squeezed Harry's fingers reassuringly and stepped over the fireplace. 

  
  


Sirius rummaged around in his tattered robes and came out with a small pouch which he opened. Taking a small pinch of the floo powder, he closed the pouch and put it where he could reach it quickly. He looked at Harry a final time and simply nodded. Then he cast the powder into the flames and vanished. A small gasp from the bedroom doorway got Harry's attention and he looked over to see Glynnis gaping at the empty hearth. 

  
  


"It's alright, Glynnis. He's gone for a doctor." Glynnis blinked a few times and turned toward Harry. "Well, he certainly is doing it faster than I ever could," she mused. She crossed to the bed and sat down next to Harry. In her hand she a strange looking pair of scissors. "What are those?" he asked curiously, pointing at the flat end.

  
  


"They're bandage scissors. The flat end goes under the cloth without cutting into the skin. I'm using these so I don't scratch you. Are you ready?" Harry nodded and looked away toward the fire. He felt the cool scissors slide up his left arm and across his shoulder, then the same thing on his right shoulder. Glynnis cut up the center of his shirt and the cold steel on Harry's stomach caused him to shiver slightly. She cringed slightly and peeled the left side of his shirt away. 

  
  


Glynnis took a deep breath and worked the scissors around the knife, always making sure she didn't touch the blade or the hilt. When she'd freed enough of the cloth to remove it, she pulled away the blood soaked material and threw into the waste can beside the bed. She'd done this several times and now the only piece of shirt left was directly under the bandaging strips she'd managed to put on in the woods. Glynnis brought the flat bottom end up and pulled the material toward her. The scissors barely missed the dagger's gleaming edge and the dragon snarled at her. She resisted the temptation to pull away quickly and instead concentrated on making cut by small cut and finally, with a release of breath, she removed the last piece from under the bandage and exposed the entire wound. 

  
  


Glynnis saw to her dismay that the blade was buried into Harry's shoulder almost to the hilt, leaving only a few millimeters between his skin and the bottom of the dragon's tail. Around the entry point, angry black lines stretched out across Harry's chest which was smeared with drying blood. She knew she couldn't get any more cloth packed around the wound and was thankful that, for the moment, the bleeding had stopped. She left the strips in place. 

  
  


Harry felt the last piece of his shirt pull away and then Glynnis took hold of his hand. "It will be alright," she assured him softly. "I'll get a cloth and we'll clean it up some. Then the doctor will be here and he'll get that thing out, I'm sure of it." Harry managed a nod and felt the bed rise when she stood. He heard her soft footsteps retreating and only then did he turn his head to look at the knife currently residing in his body. He paled as he took in the depth of the blade and the dark smudges that covered him. His head fell back and he took several deep breaths. 

  
  


"I don't know how much more of this I can take," he thought morosely. "Someone has tried to kill me every year since I turned eleven and every year it seems it gets closer to really happening." Harry removed his glasses and threw his arm over his eyes, trying to bury the welling tears in darkness. He thought about seeing Cedric die, thought about his parents' ghosts emerging from his enemy's wand. "I never asked for this," he said angrily, dashing away the offending wetness. 

  
  


"Harry?" inquired Glynnis from beside the bed. "I'm here if you'd like to talk. I've been told I'm a good listener." Harry swallowed the ache that threatened more tears and shook his head. 

  
  


"Well, just remember, I'm here if you want to," Glynnis assured him. She reached into a steaming bowl and produced a washcloth. "You know," she continued as she bathed the dried blood from him, "when Hermione first got notice that she was a witch, it took her parents completely by surprise. I wasn't though. Surprised, I mean. I always knew she was something special. To be given the talents that she has, that you have, is a gift, Harry. I know it doesn't seem like it sometimes but it is. And with a gift like yours there will come moments when you'll wish it had never been given to you." Glynnis paused to rinse the cloth. Her soft words and the soothing warm water lulled Harry into some semblance of relaxation. It was because of this momentary sense of peace that Harry failed to immediately grasp her next words.

  
  


"I have a gift too, Harry. Only my parents and sister know about it. I'm going to tell you something that not even Hermione knows. Sometimes, I know what's going to happen before it happens. I have the Sight, Harry."

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Sirius Black nervously peered out of the fireplace in his old friend's study. The room appeared empty but he could tell from the steaming mug on the desk that Attivus was in residence and due to return. He stepped out of the flames, secreted himself in a dark corner, and waited.

  
  


It was only a moment before the wizard doctor appeared. Sirius grinned. In the 15 years since he'd seen the man, Attivus Attlewart had not changed a whit. He was still wearing the long apple green robes he had specially made, the many pockets bulging with various implements of his trade. Bright blue triangular glasses framed violet eyes that had, in the past, always twinkled with merriment. Would they still flash with welcome, Sirius wondered. He watched while Attivus picked up the mug and seated himself with a sigh. 

  
  


Attivus took a long drink of the warm tea. "Sirius, if you're going to stand there all night, you could at least have had enough courtesy to warn me ahead of time. I would've cleaned out the corner for you." Sirius jumped at the words and stared open-mouthed at the doctor. Attivus stood and raised his eyes to peer into the darkness and Sirius saw the humor he remembered reflected in them. "Sirius." Attivus said simply and put down his mug. He stepped out from behind the desk and held open his arms. Sirius stepped forward and into the embrace of his old friend. They parted after a moment and stepped back from each other, taking in the changes that 15 years had wrought. 

  
  


"You haven't changed a bit, Attivus," Sirius said fondly. The doctor frowned. "I wish I could say the same about you, old friend," he said as he took in Sirius' scruffy appearance and pale, almost skeletal features. Sirius sobered and looked beseechingly into Attivus' eyes. "Attivus, I didn't betray them. Please believe . . . " 

  
  


Attivus cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Of course you didn't! What utter rubbish. No one who knew you, knew James and Lily, ever believed you did. The thought never crossed our minds. I'm glad you escaped that dreadful place, Sirius. Have you weathered it well? Are you alright?" His keen doctor's eyes surveyed his friend and saw what years of deprivation and torment had done to him. "You should eat, Sirius. That dog's diet isn't good for you for long periods."

  
  


Sirius interrupted him. "I'm not here about me. It's Harry. Oh, God, Attivus. I think it's a leech blade." Sirius swayed on his feet, only the doctor's quick, steadying hands keeping him upright. "He sent it, through Harry's cousin. It's killing him, Attivus. Please, you're my only hope." Upon hearing this, Attivus went from a concerned friend to a whirlwind in a heartbeat. He knew the 'he' Sirius referred to was Voldemort. It had to be. And he knew a leech blade could kill in a matter of hours, or days. That Harry was still alive was a good sign. It might mean they had time. He grabbed an enormous leather case that had seen its share of late nights and by the time a surprised Sirius could think twice, he was standing by the fireplace, ready to go. 

  
  


"Are you going to stand there gaping at me, Sirius, or are you going to take me to Harry? I can't help him from here, you know." Sirius took a deep breath and removed the floo powder from his pocket. "You'll have to hold on to my robes, Attivus. It's a non-magical place we're going and I don't want to lose you on the way." The doctor chuckled. "I'll hold on, never you fear. There won't ever come a day when I can't keep up with you." Sirius smiled slightly and faced the fire.

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Harry put on his glasses and blinked at Glynnis a moment. "Pardon me but did you say you had the Sight?" 

  
  


Glynnis nodded. "It's not a full Sight, mind you," she explained. "I can't predict earthquakes or anything like that. It's very personal. I only know when something is going to happen that involves me."

  
  


Harry thought about that for a moment. "I'm not sure that would be a good thing. All the time I mean." She chuckled ruefully. "I've often felt the same way. I am lucky in a way because it doesn't happen all the time. Only sometimes. Still, it's my gift to deal with, just as being a wizard is yours."

  
  


"What is it like?" Harry asked, his curiosity growing. "Do you see visions like Professor Trelawney?"

  
  


Glynnis mouth quirked. "Ah, Professor Trelawney. Hermione has spoken of her. No, I don't think she and I share quite the same kind of Sight." Harry couldn't help but smile. Glynnis continued, "For me it comes as very strong feelings. My father calls it instinct. Anyway, it's that instinct that led me to you. Something told me that my - I don't know - I guess you'd call it my destiny, waited for me in that clearing."

  
  


Harry looked rather stunned. "I...I'm your destiny?" he stammered. 

  
  


"No, not you personally. Well, yes you, but . . . it's hard to explain. Your life and mine, Harry, are tied together somehow. And I wouldn't tell you this if I wasn't absolutely certain, but," she leaned close, "you aren't going to die. Not now. Not soon. The three of us are connected somehow. I don't know how else to explain it." 

  
  


"The three of us?" Harry asked. Glynnis realized with a start what she had said and sat upright. "Well, I meant . . . " she started. Harry stopped her. "You mean Sirius?" Glynnis stood and looked out the window at the darkening sky. She stared up at the brightening stars for a moment and then dropped her cheek against the still warm glass. "Yes," she said softly, so softly that Harry could barely hear her. "Sirius and you and I, Harry. There's something between us." He realized that while Glynnis appeared to be talking to him, she was really in a conversation with herself. He stayed quiet to hear what she said. "I don't know what it is. There's something about him. I feel as if I've known him all my life. He feels it, too, I know it. I just wish I knew . . . " Her thoughts were interrupted by a commotion at the fireplace. Suddenly Sirius appeared. She gasped as he walked right through the flames and into the room. Following him, literally on his coattails, was a man Glynnis assumed to be the doctor. Only he was unlike any doctor she had ever seen. He was easily shorter than she was and his flaming red hair was tied back in assorted pony tails all over his head. His blonde beard and black mustache oddly enough enhanced his colorful glasses and purple eyes, and when you added in the bright green robes he wore, he was without a doubt the strangest person she had ever seen.

  
  


Sirius immediately went to Harry. "Harry, I've brought a doctor. His name is Attivus Attlewart. He's a friend. Actually a friend of the family. He knew your mother and father." Harry watched the strange little man brush himself off and come over to the side of the bed. "How do you do, Harry my boy? I haven't seen you since . . . well since the day you were born, actually. No, no. That's wrong. You had a nasty cold when you were about six months old and I saw you then. You've grown quite a bit since that time. I see you inherited your father's hair. And, bless me, your mother's eyes. I'd ask how you were but unfortunately I can see that you are, perhaps, not feeling just the thing right now. We'll remedy that, never fear. Now where's my . . . oh, yes. Here it is."

  
  


Harry and Glynnis watched in fascination as Attivus carried on this one sided conversation, put his large satchel on the bed, examined the knife, and patted his pockets at the same time, his last words coming as he pulled a rather large magnifying glass from somewhere in the depths of his apple green robes. "Now hold still, Harry, while I get a good look at this." Attivus held up the glass, his violet eyes blinking hugely at the dragon, who was snarling and gnashing its teeth. After a moment he looked up, the bright smile that had creased his features since entering the room had disappeared.

  
  


"First," he said, "I would like to know who bandaged around the hilt." 

  
  


Glynnis gulped and stepped forward. "That would be me, Doctor. I'm a nurse you see and I thought that perhaps I should try and pack the wound to staunch the bleeding." She fell silent under the doctor's penetrating gaze. 

  
  


"You did a fine job, Miss . . . Miss . . . ?"

  
  


"Glynnis, Doctor. Glynnis Babcock."

  
  


"Well, Miss Babcock. I've never seen a Muggle with such foresight in a matter such as this. Usually they run screaming in the other direction. Very well done."

  
  


Glynnis flushed. "I've a niece who's a witch. She goes to school with Harry," she admitted proudly. 

  
  


"Ah! That would explain it then. Now I assume you also bathed the area?" She nodded. "Very good, very good. Now then, Harry, please tell me exactly what happened, and what you have felt since."

  
  


Everyone in the room listened as Harry slowly related the events of the day. Even as he spoke, his voice would weaken now and then and he'd stop to catch his breath. When he finished, Attivus sat on the bed beside him and faced him directly, his face solemn.

  
  


"Harry, I've got to know what you think you can handle. I'll be honest and tell you exactly what I think right now, or I can take Sirius out into the hall and tell him alone. It's up to you, young man. I know you've been through a lot in the past few years. I do have my ways of keeping up on things. But I will not discuss this if you aren't completely certain you are ready to face it."

  
  


Harry looked at Sirius, and then at Glynnis. He knew that they would understand whatever he decided to do. But he also knew that he had been through enough in his short life that he felt prepared for anything. So he held onto Glynnis' assurance that he wasn't going to die right yet and made his decision. 

  
  


"I want to know, Doctor." 

  
  


Attivus nodded and beamed at Harry. "Good lad. Knew you could take it like a man." He stood and faced the three of them. "Sirius, I'm afraid you are right. It is a leech blade and a very powerful one. It is protected by some very formidable spells. If I am not mistaken, this is a Slagger Dagger and you know Slagger's reputation. I have no doubt that it was commissioned by a very powerful dark wizard, and from Harry's description, I do not think we need to contemplate who that would be."

  
  


"Pardon me," Glynnis broke in, "but what is a leech blade?" 

  
  


Harry nodded and chimed in. "Yes. I'd like to know as well."

  
  


"My mistake for not enlightening you sooner, Miss Babcock. With your wonderful efficiency and presence of mind, I had forgotten you aren't one of us," Attivus apologized with a slight bow. "Leech blades have been around for centuries, but their use has declined greatly in the past 15 years. I am not surprised young Harry here doesn't know of them either." The doctor cleared his throat. "Basically, a leech blade is a knife that is designed to drain away a wizard's life energy. Mostly it is used simply to kill, but once in a while it is used for a darker purpose."

  
  


"What could be worse than killing someone?" Glynnis mused, only realizing she'd spoken aloud when the doctor addressed her.

  
  


"The wizard who commissions this particular kind of blade will receive his victim's power and absorb his very life force. The victim will then drain away slowly and painfully until there is nothing left and they die. Fortunately, this can only be achieved if the two wizards share a bond of blood. And since Harry and Voldemort are not related, this blade would be of the former and only requires finding the proper counter spell and removing it."

  
  


Harry went white and his breath was coming in short hitches. Alarmed, Glynnis sat down next to him and took his cold hand in hers. "Harry, what is it? Are you in pain?" She looked at Sirius and saw to her dismay that his hands were buried in his hair, his face a mask of anguish. "What is it?" she cried. "What aren't you telling me?" Glynnis turned to the doctor for help. "Doctor, what's the matter?" Attivus looked confused and only shrugged. "Sirius?" he asked. "Is there something I should know?"

  
  


Sirius covered his face with his hands and took a shaking breath. "He shares Harry's blood." 

  
  


The doctor pulled himself up to his full height and approached his old friend. "Tell me what you mean and tell me now," he demanded quietly. Sirius related the events of Harry's capture during the Triwizard tournament. He explained that Voldemort had used Harry's blood to regain his former body. 

  
  


"You mean that this knife is draining Harry's life and transferring it to you-know-who?" Glynnis choked out. Attivus nodded grimly. "But . . . there must be something we can do!" She cried.

  
  


A grim silence descended upon the room, broken only by Harry's rapid breathing and the crackle of the flames in the fireplace. After a moment of pacing, Sirius spoke. "There is the obvious," he stated. Glynnis and the doctor looked at him. "Either Attivus or I can try and remove the dagger."

  
  


Attivus frowned. "You know what happened when this young lady tried. If it's protected against Muggle interference, it is certainly protected against us."

  
  


"But we don't know for certain," Sirius pleaded. "We have to try." 

  
  


"Please," came Harry's whisper from the bed. "please at least try. At least if you try and fail, we'll know we have to try something else." Sirius came over to him and placed his hand on Harry's head. "Are you sure?" he asked, himself uncertain. "We don't know what might happen." Harry's eyes, so like his mother's, glittered with a pain and fear that ripped at Sirius' heart. "It hurts, Sirius," he confessed in a ragged whisper. That was all he needed to bolster his owning failing resolve. "Attivus, we must try," he said to the doctor.

  
  


The doctor studied them both for a moment and then, with a resolute nod, approached the bed.

  
  



	8. Chapter Eight

  
  


Part Eight: The Pasts that Haunt Us 

  
  


"Wait!" Sirius stopped the doctor as he was reaching for the knife. Attivus looked at him questioningly. "I should go first. That way, if something happens to me, you can try again." 

  
  


Attivus stepped back. "Mind those teeth," he cautioned, indicating the dragon's mouth.

  
  


Sirius took a deep breath and stepped up to the bed. "Ready, Harry?" he said, his voice shaking slightly. Harry nodded and closed his eyes. Glynnis didn't want to watch but couldn't turn away. She stuffed her fist against her mouth and bit down on her fingers to keep herself together. In all her years of nursing, she'd never felt so helpless.

  
  


Sirius reached for the blade and, inches from touching it, was suddenly aware of two things. His own hand blistering as if on fire and Harry's scream mingling with his own. Then there was nothing. He awoke on the floor with Glynnis on her knees beside him, immersing his hand in a bowl of water and ice.

  
  


"Don't move, Sirius. Just wait a moment. Please."

  
  


"Harry." he uttered through teeth clenched with pain. "What happened to Harry?"

  
  


Glynnis swallowed visibly and passed a hand over her eyes. "He's unconscious. Apparently the attempt was too much. Doctor Attlewart is seeing to him. No! Don't get up!" She put a restraining hand on Sirius shoulder as he started to sit. "You can't do anything right now. Please just stay still. Harry is in very good hands. I know it. Please." Her eyes pleaded with him to lie back down. He saw the unshed tears starting to spill onto her face and, before he could stop himself, reached up to wipe them away. 

  
  


"Are you so concerned as this with all your patients?" he asked gently. Glynnis shook her head. "Then what is it? There's something going on here. Between you and Harry. Between you and . . . " Her finger against his lips stopped him. 

  
  


"Some things are better left to another time," she whispered. "Just know that things will work out."

  
  


"How can you be certain?" Sirius prodded.

  
  


Glynnis shook her head again and smiled slightly. "You'll have to take my word for it." Sirius looked as if he would say more but she pulled the bowl away and helped him to a large, overstuffed chair. "Here, sit down. Your hand is badly burned. I'll get some ointment." And with that she left the room.

  
  


"Sirius." He heard the sound as if from a distance. "Sirius." The voice prodded again, more insistently. He turned to find Attivus staring at him with undisguised curiosity. "Who exactly is this woman?"

  
  


It was Sirius' turn to shake his head. "She's Hermione Granger's aunt. Hermione is a school friend of Harry's. She knows all about our world, or much of it anyway. I really don't know who she is." His voice trailed off as his eyes were drawn back to the doorway she'd left only a moment ago. "She's . . . I don't know . . . a puzzle," he mused aloud. Attivus said nothing but approached the chair where Sirius sat, knelt down and fixed him with a disturbed gaze. "Sirius. What do you want me to do?" 

  
  


Sirius looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" 

  
  


"Do you want me to try and remove the blade?"

  
  


Sirius thought frantically. He knew that his attempt to remove it had caused Harry great pain. He didn't want to do that to him again. But he also wanted to know they had done everything they could to help. He looked helplessly at his friend and shook his head despairingly. "I don't know, Attivus. So help me God I just don't know." 

  
  


The anguish in Sirius' eyes was mirrored in Attivus' gaze. He knew what losing the Potters had done to his friend. He knew what losing their son would mean. He also knew that he had to exhaust every possible avenue before giving up. He squeezed Sirius' hands and stood. "Harry wanted us to try so I will try." He approached Harry's side and the dragon leered in anticipation. Sirius sat nervously on the edge of the chair with his uninjured hand clenched into a fist on his thigh. Attivus reached out. A loud crash stopped him dead. He jumped and turned, as did Sirius, to stare at Glynnis who was poised in the doorway, the silver tray she had obviously been carrying, and it's contents, still clattering at her feet. "My God, woman!" snapped Sirius, his nerves at the breaking point. "What is the matter?" Glynnis only stared into the room. Sirius let his temper loose. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself? You've frightened us half to . . . " A hand on his arm ended the tirade. He looked down at the doctor who was watching Glynnis with utter fascination. Sirius swallowed the remainder of his wrath and followed his friends gaze. 

  
  


Glynnis stood as if frozen with a stupefying spell. Her eyes were open wide, their deep brown almost obliterated by the dilated pupils. Her mouth worked as if she were speaking but no sound issued forth. "What's the matter with her?" asked Sirius, although something in him wasn't quite sure he wanted to know.

  
  


"Unless I'm mistaken, and I don't believe I am," Attivus answered, "she's Seeing something."

  
  


"Seeing something? There's nothing here to see but us."

  
  


Attivus 'tsk'ed softly. "Not that kind of seeing," he said meaningfully. 

  
  


Sirius looked again and realized that he had seen Glynnis' expression before, on his Divination professor at Hogwarts. Unlike Madame Trelawney, Professor Villeau was a true possessor of the Other Sight. The students had often watched him in the same pose, as if speaking to someone they couldn't see. When he'd come around and they would ask him about it, he'd only chuckle and say "Don't worry. That call wasn't for you." Then he would wink and return to the lesson.

  
  


"I'm going to try something." Attivus whispered comment yanked Sirius away from the past. "Vox amplificatus." The doctor had pulled a wand from out his pocket and had pointed it at Glynnis. Both men listened in fascination as the once silent words flowed quietly through the room. 

  
  


"It's a trap. You mustn't touch it. A trap spell has been laid and if you touch it again he will die."

  
  


Attivus cleared his throat and approached Glynnis slowly. "Can it be removed?" he asked.

  
  


Glynnis voice was airy and ethereal. Sirius had to strain to hear her. "Not by the doctor. Not by the friend. Not by the seeker. Only one in the end." He looked at Attivus. "What does that mean?" he asked. 

  
  


"I'll try and find out." 

  
  


"But how?"

  
  


"You have to learn to ask the right questions," Attivus said cryptically. "Who will remove it?"

  
  


"The one who has the most to gain will be the one to end the pain." Glynnis was shaking. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed and pink and her breathing was shallow. 

  
  


"It's leaving her, Sirius."

  
  


"What do we do?" 

  
  


"The right hand is left." With this said, Glynnis sighed and her eyes closed slowly. Only Sirius' quick reflexes kept her from hitting the floor as she fainted. He lifted her in his arms and sat down in the large chair with her on his lap. He looked helplessly up at his friend who was, once again, leaning over Harry looking at the knife.

  
  


"That was curious, I must say. Well, we learned something from it at any rate." 

  
  


Sirius didn't look so certain. "What exactly would that be, Attivus? Other than the fact that there is more to Miss Babcock than meets the eye." 

  
  


The doctor straightened and fingered his beard thoughtfully. "We know there is a trap spell on the blade. Neither you nor I can remove it, assuming we are the doctor and the friend indicated by her. I am going to stretch a bit and consider that Miss Babcock is the seeker mentioned."

  
  


"That could be Harry, Attivus. He's the seeker for his house Quidditch team." Sirius was squirming beneath Glynnis. His contortions caught the doctor's attention. "Sirius, what are you doing?" Sirius stopped and looked at his friend as if the answer were quite obvious. "I'm trying to reach my wand. Oh, never mind. Would you enervate her please? Maybe she can answer some of these questions." Attivus shook his head. "Best to leave her come out of it on her own. From her reaction, I doubt this happens very often, if it has ever happened at all. Most seers will grow accustomed to these things and learn to simply go with it. Miss Babcock here is showing all the signs of distress that would come with a first time visioning. No, Sirius, just let her be. We'll talk about it when she wakes. I'll warn you though, I doubt she'll recall a thing. So just sit back and relax. Now where was I?" 

  
  


"The right hand has left," Sirius offered.

  
  


"Oh, yes. Hmmmm. Left as in gone? Does that mean the right person to do it is no longer here? Has anyone else been about?"

  
  


"Only Dudley and his crew and I doubt they would be the ones to undo this."

  
  


"Possibly. A mystery to be sure. Must think on it. For now, though, I'm off home. My library has some excellent books on this sort of thing. Won't take me but a minute to find them and hop back here." As he spoke, Attivus hunted his pockets and relocated his wand. He turned to Sirius. "I won't be long. There's naught you can do for Harry right this minute so don't worry. He's better off out for the moment. It will use up less energy. Just keep an eye on the young lady here. Let her talk about it if she wants but don't press her. And before I forget, hinthan amelioratis." Attivus pointed his wand at Sirius' injured hand and immediately the painful burns disappeared. Having done this, the doctor apparated and was gone. Sirius mood grew grim as he sat alone in the darkening room. After a while, he lifted Glynnis and settled her into the chair alone.

  
  


He walked over to the fireplace and leaned heavily against the mantel, his forehead on his crossed arms as he stared into the flames, Harry's scream of agony still echoing in his head. He closed his eyes and wondered, not for the first time, how much more he could take. He'd lived hour by hour through the Triwizard Tournament anxiously awaiting the trap to spring. Sirius spent each task day pacing back and forth across the cave's small floor until he heard that Harry had made it safely through another phase. When he'd found out that Harry had disappeared in the maze, he felt as if the Dementors had finally gotten their wish and taken his soul. The wait in Dumbledore's office seemed to take longer than his entire stay in Azkaban. When Harry had returned safely and related his story, Sirius was torn between relief that Harry was alive and relatively well and the knowledge that it was so easy for Voldemort to take him from the very place that Harry was supposed to have been safe. "Oh, James," he thought, "I feel like I'm failing you yet again." 

  
  


The crushing grief that had haunted him through the last fourteen years crashed into him once more. Sirius could no longer fight it off with thoughts of revenge as he had in Azkaban. Harry was real to him now, no longer a fuzzy image in his head. He was real and in danger and Sirius felt helpless to do anything. He turned away from the bright flames and slid down the hearth wall. He sat down on the warm bricks and buried his face in his arms. The tears he'd denied himself for so long burned hot tracks across his face.

  
  


Sirius was only dimly aware when soft arms enfolded him and a gentle hand smoothed over his head. He knew only that, for the first time in fourteen years of solitude and exile, a human touch was comforting him. He leaned into the embrace, deep sobs wracking his thin frame. 

  
  


Glynnis lost all track of time as she sat by the fire, holding Sirius in her arms. She'd awaken confused and disoriented in the arm chair by Harry's bed with no recollection of either sitting down or falling asleep. The sounds from the fireplace brought her to her feet and Sirius' emotional agony brought her to his side. His anguish touched her deeply in a place she'd thought long buried. She closed her eyes as she held him, stroking his hair, murmuring soft, comforting words. In her mind's eye she saw herself fifteen years before in a similar position only with her the one needing comfort. The memory unfolded and she allowed herself to remember . . . 

  
  


"Derek stop squirming," she laughed as her as her small son struggled playfully against his coat. "You'll be sorry if you don't let me wrap you up warmly. You'll get a chill and then we'll all be up in the night while you sniffle and sneeze." Derek only smiled, his four gleaming teeth winking at her. "You are incorrigible," she chided as she finally got the last button done up and lifted him in her arms. 

  
  


"Just like his father!" a strong voice proudly proclaimed behind her. Just then she and Derek were wrapped in a pair of strong arms and hugged fiercely. They both giggled. "Are you sure you want to take him with, Seamus?" she asked for the fourth time. "I could stay home."

  
  


"Of course I want to take him," Seamus replied in his lilting brogue, still thick ten years after leaving Ireland. "He and I have men things to do, don't we little man?" Derek giggled as his father's eyebrows wiggled vigorously up and down. "You go on to hospital and talk to that besom Bessie Smythe about the new position. Don't let her talk you into anything less, lass. Got that?" 

  
  


"Yes, sir," she replied coyly and laughed gaily as he swatted her behind on the way out the door. 

  
  


"We'll meet you at market!" he called after her. Glynnis turned and waved, walked the four blocks to the bus stop and rode to the hospital with a happy heart. Today she was interviewing for a head nursing position in the new pediatric wing. She'd not had much experience but her quick mind and even temper made her an excellent manager. She just had to convince the nursing department heads that she was capable. All through the interview she answered questions and asked some of her own and when she walked out of the room she knew she had the job. She could just feel it. She couldn't wait to share the news with her husband and son.

  
  


Since the place where she was to meet her family was only four blocks away, she walked, enjoying the afternoon bustle. It was a glorious day and she reveled in the high sun and crisp air.

As she turned onto Market Street, she spotted Seamus, his height making him stand above the others. He sensed her presence and turned. He held Derek in his arms. She smiled and waved gaily at her laughing son and picked up her speed. When she was halfway there, the sense of doom that she had come to dread over the years hit her full force and she stumbled. Her knees hit the sidewalk with a jarring crack. Skin shredded and blood flowed but she felt none of this. She only knew that something terrible was about to happen. She struggled to her feet and saw that Seamus was heading her way, a concerned frown on his face. Derek was waving at her madly, his tiny pearl-like teeth glinting in the sun. From out of nowhere two men appeared between her and her husband. They were fighting, yelling at each other. She couldn't hear what they were saying, the rushing in her ears drowning out all other sound. And then her world fell apart. A powerful explosion rocked the street and Glynnis was thrown, unconscious, to the ground

  
  


A crater so deep that the sewer cracked was all that was left of thirteen people including Seamus and Derek.

  
  



	9. Chapter Nine

  
  


Part Nine: The Right Hand 

  
  


"I should've done something. Anything. Tried to escape sooner, tried to explain it better, demanded a new trial. Instead I let myself sit in Azkaban and do nothing and because of that Harry's life is in danger again and I'm helpless." The choked confession broke Glynnis' heart. She had to get through to him, help him see it wasn't his fault.

  
  


"So you knew that Peter would betray Harry's parents?" she stated casually. "Well, of course then it was very careless of you." 

  
  


Sirius lurched to his feet and stared down at Glynnis in furious horror. "I thought he would keep their secret! I thought I could trust him! I had no idea he was working for the other side!" Glynnis frowned up at him, hoping against hope that she was right about her tactics. 

  
  


"Well, then you are guilty." She could see his own self-loathing and hatred of her building in his eyes. "Of poor judgement." Glynnis saw Sirius' face freeze as her words slowly penetrated. She continued quickly. "Guilty of loving two friends and trusting another, who proved you false."

  
  


Sirius was confused, she could see that. He had been so caught up in his own grief that he had neglected to actually look at the facts. Glynnis took advantage of this and pressed on. She stood and put a gentle hand against his face. "You are also guilty of finding hope in a place that has none and loving Harry so much that you risked a fate worse than death to help him." You are also guilty of making me feel again. 

  
  


Sirius felt the emotions warring inside him. He had spent so many years blaming himself, could he have been wrong? Was it really his fault? Dumbledore had told him no. Many others had told him no, others who had known more about the facts and situation than this Muggle woman. And yet her words seemed to penetrate the haze of self-censure that had consumed him all these years. He looked into her deep eyes and saw a forgiveness that he didn't understand but accepted. A forgiveness of all his sins, real and imagined. He felt a lifting of his soul. Still there lingered a dark heaviness that pulled at him even as he tried to rise above it. "That will always be there." The voice inside his head was hers. "There will always be the deep questions that come in the night, in your dreams, when you hear them scream, see them die. You will always wonder somewhere inside of you what you could have done and didn't." 

  
  


"But how . . . ?" Sirius said the question aloud.

  
  


"I have seen that particular view of hell." The voice echoed with unspeakable heartache.

  
  


Sirius saw old wounds open in Glynnis' eyes and his hands cupped her face. It was only then that it occurred to him that she had not spoken. His eyebrows shot up in question and he saw the answer in her small, sad smile. "Some things are better not said aloud."

  
  


"Tell me." It was not a command, but a plea. A plea for some reassurance that he was not alone in his fallibility. She closed her eyes, unsure of whether she wanted to share this now. But Glynnis realized that if she was to begin her life anew, she would have to trust someone. Her eyes opened and gazed purposefully into his eyes.

  
  


A wave of misery engulfed Sirius as the events of fifteen years past flooded his mind. He saw it all from her eyes. Saw the bodies of her husband and son, the funerals, the weeks of terror and isolation. Saw her finding the will to live again. And, with a physical jolt, saw the newspaper reports she'd gone back and read years later.

  
  


"I'm sorry! I should never have done that," Glynnis cried as he jerked away from her. "Please, Sirius, forgive me! I've not done this in a very long time. I should have . . . " Sirius cut her off with a shaking finger to her lips. "It's not that. It's . . . oh, Glynnis!" He pulled her close, uncertain whether to tell her the truth. With trembling arms he held her tight and told her how her family had really died.

  
  


"So you see," he said quietly, his hands stroking her back, "it wasn't a bomb. The same man who killed James and Lily killed Seamus and Derek." 

  
  


Glynnis stood stock still in Sirius' arms. If it weren't for the rapid rise and fall of her chest against his, he would think she was a statue. When she finally spoke, it was so quiet he wasn't sure he'd actually her. 

  
  


"Did they suffer at all?"

  
  


Sirius held her tighter. "No. They didn't feel a thing and they had no time for fear. It was quite literally instantaneous." Glynnis' breath hitched and she exhaled raggedly. Sirius felt her pull away slowly and prepared himself for the worst. He wasn't sure he'd want to hear what she just had. It was with complete astonishment that he met her gaze and found her looking at him with gratitude. "I'd often wondered what had really happened. Something about the whole thing didn't ring true, but now . . . now I know. Thank you, Sirius, for telling me." The sincerity in her voice was his undoing. Without a conscious thought he leaned down and gently brushed his lips against hers. Glynnis sighed and leaned into him, her hands going around his back. Sirius groaned and deepened the kiss. A whoosh from the fireplace forced them quickly apart and Attivus Attlewart stepped out of the flames.

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Wormtail stared in fascinated revulsion at his master's changing face. The slitted eyes rounded out, their centers turning a dark brownish green. The bony limbs filled out and flesh expanded the hollows of the skull-like cheeks. Over a period of moments, pale hair sprouted on the evil wizard's head, growing longer as Pettigrew watched. 

  
  


Voldemort laughed with grim satisfaction as his face pinkened into a healthy glow and his sharp, yellow teeth straightened. "Almost done," he crooned to his reflection. "Soon I will be unrecognizable and the world will know that Lord Voldemort has indeed returned!" 

  
  


Wormtail swallowed nervously. He didn't want the Potter boy dead. He owed him his life. He had tried to sabotage the knife spells by giving the blade wizard only partial information but that had failed so far. He had one hope left. Voldemort had been very specific about what he'd wanted. "No other wizard or Muggle is to remove that blade, Slagger," he'd said. Slagger's eyebrows had risen at that. "No other wizard? Are you absolutely certain that is what you want?" he asked. Slagger glanced quickly at Wormtail and it was then that he realized there could be a potentially fatal flaw in his master's plan. He'd looked away then but not before a surreptitious wink from the blade wizard confirmed his suspicions. Now he only watched while Voldemort's form changed and hoped that the small flaw would be discovered before it was too late.

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Attivus stepped out of the fireplace and dusted himself off. He didn't seem to notice the awkward silence that had descended on the room nor that both Sirius and Glynnis were flushed. He only smiled when he looked up from his clean robes. "Well, told you I'd be quick. How's Harry? I see you are on your feet young lady. Good, good. Can't be worried about two patients right now, can I? Although seems that Sirius here can manage at least one of you." His twinkling eyes betrayed the fact that he had indeed been aware of what his untimely arrival had interrupted. Glynnis, however, frowned at him. "What do you mean two patients?" Attivus looked at Sirius questioningly. Sirius shook his head slightly. Glynnis' frown deepened. "What is all this head shaking about? What aren't you telling me?" 

  
  


"I think she should know, Attivus. Glynnis can take it. She's quite a remarkable person." Sirius smiled at her. One rare, beautiful, genuine smile that made her knees shake. She smiled tremulously in return, blushing. Attivus looked from one to the other and nodded knowingly to himself. "Alright, then, miss. Let's sit you down." He took her elbow and guided her back to the chair. "You had a vision," he announced baldly.

  
  


"A vision?" Glynnis asked innocently, while at the same time her heart raced inside her chest. 

  
  


"Glynnis." She looked at Sirius and realized that all was out. She shook her head ruefully. "I'm sorry. I've not confided in anyone in a very long time." Attivus patted her knee. "Quite understandable. Now, I gather this isn't the first time this has happened?" Glynnis shook her head. "No. It happened once before that I know of, when I was twelve. It was the first time my sight kicked in and it rather took me for a loop. My parents thought I was having a seizure. It was only later that I realized what was going on." The doctor frowned thoughtfully. "You were twelve? You're sure?" She thought for a moment. She remembered having her gift only after the age of twelve. She told him as much. "But this first time? Could you have been younger? Eleven, perhaps?" Sirius jerked his head around. He looked at the doctor incredulously. "Attivus, are you going somewhere with this?" Attivus only waved him off. "It's just that I'm curious, my dear. Could you please think very hard about it?" Glynnis took her mind back as far as she could recall. "Perhaps I could have been eleven. I really don't remember. I'm sorry." Attivus patted her hand again. "It's alright, Miss Babcock. Not really important. As I said, just curious." Glynnis reached out and took the doctor's hand in hers. "Did you find out anything? About Harry?" 

  
  


Attivus smiled his bright smile at her and nodded. "I think I may have. These daggers are very spell specific. And unless the spell was worded precisely, there is a way to circumvent the trap spell. We simply need to figure out what 'the right hand has left means'." 

  
  


Harry heard voices and tried to wake up. He felt very weak. He knew that he didn't have much time. They were talking about visions. Someone had a vision? "Glynnis," he thought. He listened lazily to their conversation, trying to summon the energy to open his eyes. He heard the questions asked by Doctor Attlewart. "Eleven!" Harry's mind snapped to attention. "He must think she's got witch potential. That would explain everything!" Harry willed himself to consciousness and immediately regretted it. A moan escaped him as his felt the full force of the beating his body was taking by the knife. Immediately, Glynnis and Sirius were beside him.

  
  


"Harry," Sirius face was gray with exhaustion. "How do you feel?" 

  
  


Harry opened his mouth but no sound came. He tried to swallow but his dry throat only choked him. Glynnis saw his distress. "I'll get you some water, Harry. Hold on a minute." And she was gone. Doctor Attlewart took her place and checked Harry over. "You'll be alright soon enough, Harry. We'll lick this thing. I'm certain of it." Glynnis returned with a glass of water and a straw. The doctor moved aside. "Here you are, Harry. Can you help him sit, Sirius?" Sirius' strong arms held him upright while he greedily drank the cool water. "Not too fast, Harry," she chided gently. "Easy. That's it." She set the glass on the bed stand and sat next to him. "How are you holding up?" she said softly, her concern emblazoned on her face. Harry tried again to speak and found he could barely whisper, he was so drained. "I've been better." Sirius turned away at Harry's words. He caught Attivus' eye and the doctor's look said it all. "We're losing him." 

  
  


Glynnis voice echoed in Sirius head. "Hang on, Sirius. You have to be strong now." He turned his gaze toward her and nodded. Satisfied, Glynnis turned back to Harry. "We're going to . . . " Her words were cut off by Harry's cry of pain. He writhed on the bed as the dagger sent screaming pulses of white-hot misery into his chest. 

  
  


Glynnis grabbed his hand and Harry cried out again, pulling away from her. She looked down and saw red, angry marks marring the skin between the thumb and finger. The inflamed cuts were obviously swollen and infected. She raised frightened eyes to Attivus and he moved her aside to look at the wound. "Harry, how did this happen?" he asked. "It bit me," Harry ground out through clenched teeth. "What bit you?" Harry tossed his head from side to side, trying in vain to get away from the agony that burned through him. "Harry! What bit you?" Attivus was firm in his insistence. "The dragon," Harry gasped. He panted in relief as the pain subsided. "The dragon bit me when I tried to pull out the knife." 

  
  


Attivus shot to his feet, yelling. "That's it! Attlewart you are an idiot! A blind man could have seen it!" 

  
  


Sirius and Glynnis stared at the doctor in shock. He was dancing around in a circle, his hair streaming out around him. "Of course, of course! How simple. How stupidly simple!"

  
  


"Attivus!"

  
  


At Sirius' shout, Attivus abruptly ceased his cavorting and stood shaking his head. "I should've figured it out, Sirius."

  
  


"Figured what out, Attivus?"

  
  


"Have you found a way to remove it, Doctor?" asked Glynnis, her voice filled with hope. He nodded. "We got it all wrong, Sirius, you and I. Miss Babcock didn't say the right hand has left. She said the right hand is left." Sirius just stared, not comprehending at all. "Harry must be the one to remove the dagger."

  
  


The doctor's simple statement left a gaping silence in its wake. Glynnis, Sirius, and Harry looked at him as if he'd just sprouted wings. He shook his head and chuckled grimly. "Don't you see? Harry can touch the dragon. It bit him, yes, but that is all. He wasn't knocked for a loop, or burned. Harry must be the one to remove the dagger. With his left hand. 'The right hand is left'." He looked at Harry who looked both relieved and terrified. "Are you up for it, Harry?" 

  
  


Harry couldn't speak, he was so shocked. Could it be? Could his enemy have been so careless? Apparently Sirius wondered the same thing because he asked that very question. Attivus nodded in reply but his eyes never left Harry's face. 

  
  


"It's a test of character."Glynnis' simple statement made them look her way. 

  
  


Attivus nodded again. "You-know-who has no honor. No sense of what makes a man who he is. He sees only greed, violence, hate, all the negatives in a person and exploits that. He does not see that a strong character, a strong sense of right and wrong, can be as powerful as anything his evil mind can concoct. Lily and James should have proven that to him, but he never was one to learn a lesson."

  
  


"You mean, all I have to do is pull it out?" Harry asked, the simple act of talking leaving him breathless and weak. Attivus nodded. "It will bite me again," Harry observed as the dragon, noticing his attention, gnashed its teeth and snarled. Attivus nodded again. "I'm afraid it will, Harry. However, you must remember this - pain is fleeting, strength of character is forever. I think perhaps this is a lesson your godfather has finally learned." Harry's eyes moved to Sirius who was looking at Glynnis with an unreadable expression on his face. Sirius' gaze moved slowly to meet Harry's. He smiled soberly and nodded. Harry looked at Glynnis. She too nodded and then, very faintly, Harry heard her voice inside his head. "I told you would not die this day. You must trust in that." His eyes widened and he knew his face must be registering his shock because Sirius moved next to her and his arm encircled her shoulders. "Trust her, Harry," was all he said.

  
  


Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm his pounding heart. "I can do this. I can do this." He repeated the litany over and over until, of its own accord, his left arm reached over and he grabbed the dragon hilt.

  
  


The dragon's razor sharp teeth immediately cleaved into him. The already pained hand was a mass of lacerated skin and muscle in seconds and it was all Harry could do to hang on. With a great cry he poured the last of his strength into his fingers and yanked as hard as he could. Like Excalibur coming free of the stone, the dagger supposedly belonging to King Arthur sailed free of Harry's shoulder and into the air above the bed. Miles away, Voldemort screamed in rage and defeat, a sound that was echoed by the dragon as the blade shattered into a million shards of shimmering metal.

  
  



	10. Chapter Ten

  
  


Part Ten: Surrender 

  
  


Voldemort's animalistic scream rang violently through the Riddle house. The sheer volume broke windows. Wormtail watched as the now almost human form of his master melted like hot wax into a monstrosity of features. The mirror where Voldemort had watched with demonic glee as his snake like visage change shattered, sending shards of knife-edged glass into what was left of his face. The evil wizard continued to howl in rage and frustration, his body bowing in on itself as the agony of the sudden and brutal change tore through him. Wormtail knew without being told that the knife had failed. Relief flooded him. Harry Potter was still alive. The debt for saving his life was still unpaid, but he felt he'd made some small atonement just the same. 

  
  


As Voldemort's contorted body writhed on the floor, caught in a torture more brutal than any crucius spell, his coveted human form reduced back to its original horror, Pettigrew found himself rubbing the arm he'd sacrificed to his master's punishment. A small, feral smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and a jolt of pure sadistic pleasure ran down his weak spine. He backed out of the room before the perverted laughter that threatened could break forth. "I'll just tell him I was afraid," he reasoned as he fled the house which was still breaking apart in the wake of Voldemort's wrath. Hysterical giggles welled up in his throat. The last thing he heard as he ran for the cover of the surrounding countryside was his master screaming the blade wizard's name.

  
  


*********************************

  
  


While Sirius and Glynnis stood riveted in anguish at Harry's plight, Attivus moved forward and immediately began to treat the gaping wound on Harry's shoulder. "Miss Babcock, see to his hand," he ordered brusquely. The authoritative tone jarred Glynnis out of her shock and she immediately went to Harry's left side. "Sirius, a bowl of water and towels. Also, the bandages. They are on the kitchen counter," she ordered. Sirius, grateful for something to do, ran for the kitchen and returned with the well-ordered tray she'd prepared and a bowl of steaming water. He watched as she gently bathed the mauled skin and treated it liberally with antiseptic. "This will need stitching, Doctor," she informed him, the professional demeanor that was second nature to her taking over. "Bind it for now and then give me a hand here," Attivus replied, his mind totally focused on the knife wound. In seconds, Glynnis had bandaged the mangled hand and gave her full attention to the doctor's ministrations. 

  
  


Sirius watched with stomach churning fascination as Attivus probed the wound with his fingers. "I'm making sure there are no shards remaining," the doctor commented, answering the unasked question. Sirius was thankful that Harry was deeply unconscious. It was some small relief knowing that Harry was far removed from these events. 

  
  


Without being asked, Glynnis handed the doctor a towel on which to wipe his bloody hands and then proceeded to hold another towel over the freely bleeding wound while Attivus searched his pockets. He extracted a small pouch and set it on the bed. He then pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry. "Comatas extremus," he intoned. Harry took a shuddering breath and then stilled. Sirius gasped. "Attivus!" he cried. "What are you doing?"

  
  


"He's stopped breathing!" Glynnis screamed and she moved over Harry to begin CPR.

  
  


"I've put Harry in a coma spell," Attivus announced as he pulled her back. Her eyes raised to his in alarm and fear. "What?" she whispered.

  
  


"It's a spell used to simulate death," Sirius choked out. "Why, Attivus? It could kill him!"

  
  


Attivus frowned at Sirius. "It's necessary," he snapped. "What I'm about to do may hurt. Even unconscious, Harry could feel it. I'm not sure even the coma spell can completely counteract the effects."

  
  


"I don't understand!" Glynnis cried.

  
  


"I've got to make certain that there are no lingering residues from the blade. Many times these blades are also coated with poisons. I suspect that is what is causing the discoloration around the wound. I have to administer an antidote to be certain. If there is no trace of poison, nothing will happen and I will reverse the spell immediately. If there is, the antidote will literally burn it away. Do you want Harry to suffer that? It is extremely painful and I'm not sure even the comatas spell will keep him from feeling it. Now do I do my job or do you continue to question my tactics?" Although he answered Glynnis' question, the doctor faced Sirius. His voice was stern and hard and he hated himself for it, but he had to make Sirius understand the severity of the situation. He saw the torment in his old friend's eyes and sighed. "Sirius, you said you trusted me. I must ask you to prove that now. I know what I'm doing. Please, let me save his life." 

  
  


Sirius closed his eyes and nodded, surrendering Harry's life once again to someone else. Attivus picked up the small pouch and turned his attention back to Harry. He poured the contents into his hand and leaned over the wound. He blew softly into his palm, sending a cloud of iridescent powder down onto Harry's shoulder. Immediately upon touching Harry's skin, the powder turned an angry red and glowed hotly. Despite his unconscious state and the comatas spell, Harry screamed. "Hold him!" Attivus ordered as he threw himself across Harry who was fighting the torturous pain. Sirius rushed forward to hold his godson's shoulders while the boy lunged against the restraining hands. Glynnis stood back and watched in horror as the red powder penetrated the wound, sending bright streaks of orange light into the gaping cavity. For what seemed like an eternity, Harry's whole chest was illuminated from within. Then the blaze dimmed to yellow, then blue and finally a shaft of white light shot straight up from the hole in his shoulder, filling the room with a brilliant radiance. With one last strangled cry Harry's rigid body collapsed.

  
  


"Comatas restoratis." At the doctor's muttered incantation, Harry inhaled raggedly and began to breathe again. Glynnis released her own breath, not aware she had been holding it, and sat down abruptly on the floor, her watery knees giving way beneath her. Sirius lay sideways above Harry's head, his face buried in the pillow, his fingers clenching the sheet beneath his hands. 

  
  


Attivus also drew in a deep, steadying breath and began the process of healing Harry's wounds. He pulled yet another pouch from one of his many pockets and removed a single green leaf. He reached over to Glynnis' abandoned tray and moved the warm water to the bed stand beside him. He then crumpled the leaf in his hands and dropped it into the steaming bowl. A fresh, wholesome bouquet filled the room and Glynnis and Sirius took deep breaths of the cleansing scent. Both felt revived and invigorated. Their cares shed away from them like ashes from a windswept hill. 

  
  


"What is that?" Glynnis asked in wonder, rising to her feet.

  
  


"Kingsfoil," Attivus told her. "It has remarkable restorative properties." 

  
  


Glynnis' brow creased in thought. "Kingsfoil? I know I've heard of it but I can't recall where." 

  
  


Sirius grinned, his exhaustion banished in the wake of the leaf's still wafting aroma. "One of our wizards mentioned it in a book he'd written. It was, oddly enough, very popular among Muggles, I believe." 

  
  


Attivus nodded. "Quite right. Quite right. J.R.R. was certainly a genius when it came to manipulating the written word." 

  
  


At the mention of the wizard author's name, Glynnis realized where she'd heard of kingsfoil before. "That's one of my very favorite books! But I had no idea . . . "

  
  


"That parts of it were real?" Attivus teased in good humor. "You'd be surprised that many things considered fantasy have truly happened or do exist." That said, the good doctor turned his attention back to his patient. With a spoon he procured from his robes, he spooned some of the fragrant water into Harry's wound. He then used his wand and before Glynnis amazed eyes, the wound began to close itself. She watched disbelieving as the deep part of the jagged hole mended, muscle and tissue blending together seamlessly until there remained only a small dragon-shaped scar where the knife had penetrated. The doctor then moved to the other side of the bed and repeated the process with Harry's injured hand. When he was finished, he straightened his back and clapped his hands together. "That's it then," he announced matter-of-factly.

  
  


Sirius took his friend in a tight embrace and squeezed him so hard the breath whooshed out of him. "Thank you, Attivus. Thank you so much!" 

  
  


"My pleasure, my pleasure," he assured him breathlessly. "Now do stop suffocating me or Harry will be last patient I attend to." Sirius released him and turned his gaze to Harry. The lines of pain were gone from his face and he now appeared to be in a deep, healing sleep. Sirius realized that Glynnis had come up beside him and was also watching Harry. He put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his side, sighing slightly. He bent his head down and inhaled the soft scent of her hair, something he couldn't remember doing since Lily died. Whenever he hugged her, he'd bury his nose in her long red tresses and breathe deeply. Lily would always tease him and tell him if he liked the smell of a woman's hair so much he should find a girl of his own to breathe over. Then James would laugh and tell him 'either that or buy a wig' and would push Sirius aside in a fit of mock jealousy. He'd tried to explain to her that the smell of a woman's hair was like perfume and no two women's were exactly the same but she only smiled indulgently. "God, I miss them," he thought sadly.

  
  


Sirius was so lost in his memories that he didn't hear Glynnis speak. A soft chuckle brought him round and he looked down to see her eyes twinkling gaily up at him. "I'm sorry," he said, "did you say something?" She laughed, a happy laugh that reminded him of tinkling chimes and it banished the shadows of memory from his mind. "I said that Harry will be just fine."

  
  


He looked at her for a moment then nodded. "You did tell me that, didn't you? I'll not doubt again Glynnis." She turned her in his arms so that she faced him and raised her face to his. "Say it again," she said. "Say what?" he asked, confused. "My name," she whispered. 

  
  


"Glynnis." The words fell from his lips like petals from a rose, soft and gentle. She smiled at him then, a sweet smile that held promise and hope and his breath lurched in his chest. 

  
  


"Ahem." The small sound caught their attention and they looked away from each other embarrassed. Attivus stood near the fireplace, beaming from ear to ear. "Well, I see that things are well in hand here. I'm off home then. I'll check back in the morning. Until then, just make certain Harry stays quiet and comfortable although I sincerely doubt he'll wake until well into tomorrow. If you should need me for any reason, if anything should change, you know how to reach me." 

  
  


"Attivus, I can't thank you enough. You've saved my life as well as Harry's, old friend." He took the doctor's hand and clasped it warmly." Attivus returned the handshake and patted Sirius on the arm. "He's got a real find in you, Sirius. Keep close to him, he'll need you there when this whole thing breaks loose." Sirius nodded with grim understanding and stepped back. Glynnis came over and put her arms around the doctor. "Thank you from me, too." He grinned at her merrily. "You'll be hearing from me, Miss Babcock. There's a thing or two we need to discuss. Not now, mind. But soon." Attivus saluted the two of them jauntily and receded into the flames. 

  
  


For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence in the room. Then Sirius' stomach growled loudly and they both laughed. "I'll fix us something to eat," Glynnis said. A sudden thought stopped her doorway. She turned and spoke, her lips twitching with suppressed mirth. "Would you like a hot bath while you're waiting? That is, of course, unless you like frightening small children." Sirius frowned at her, puzzled. She looked pointedly at the large mirror above the dresser on the opposite wall. He stepped up to it and looked at his reflection for the first time in over a decade. He had to admit, after a moment's rueful contemplation of his dirty, disheveled state, that his current condition wasn't exactly conducive to a real meal with polite company. "Perhaps a bath would be in order," he agreed. 

  
  


"I'll let you know when it's ready," she said as her gaze met his in the glass. Sirius leered at her image in the mirror and made his hands into claws. Glynnis left the room, her shoulders shaking and her hand over her mouth, unsuccessfully muffling her giggles. When she'd gone, he crossed over to where Harry lay sleeping and sat down beside him. His hand gently smoothed the damp hair from the sweaty forehead and his finger lightly traced the scar beneath. "Oh, Harry," he said quietly after a long while. "He nearly did you in this time. We've got to find some place safe for you. Some place he wouldn't think to look."

  
  


Your bath is ready," Glynnis announced quietly from behind him. 

  
  


"Thanks," he said, as he stood and followed her to the bathroom where a deep, claw foot tub sat steaming invitingly. A pair of pants and a lightweight shirt lay on the toilet along with some socks. Sirius looked at her questioningly. 

  
  


"I've taken the liberty of laying out some clothes if you'd like something clean. They were my brother-in-laws. I was going to leave them at hospital for anyone who needed them. If you want to put them on, I'll launder your clothes in the morning." Sirius nodded his thanks and she left him, closing the door behind. "There's soap and shampoo right there. Take your time and come into the kitchen when you're done," she called as she walked away.

  
  


Sirius shed his clothes, not realizing until this moment how filthy and ratty they were. He stepped into the hot water and eased himself down. With a sigh born of sheer physical bliss, he leaned his head back and slid down, immersing himself until only his nose remained above the surface. For the longest time he lay like this, letting the heat penetrate his body. He hadn't been aware of how cold his existence had been until this moment. At last he sat up and relaxed against the back of the tub. It was then that he realized he had not only been cold all these years but dirty. The water around him was tinged gray with grime and filth. He made a face and reached for his wand. With a flick of his hand the old water was gone and new water took its place. He looked around for soap and a washcloth and found these items plus some other things on a small commode nearby. He stood and picked up the soap, inhaling its musky fragrance. Then he slid it back and forth in his hands, generating mounds of thick, rich lather.

  
  


Sirius had been starving his physical needs forever, it seemed, and he'd forgotten that the simple task of bathing could be so pleasant. When he finally felt clean, he picked up the shampoo and attached the tangled mass of his hair.

  
  


*********************************

  
  


Sirius followed the delicious smells of real food cooking into the kitchen. The cheery room was illuminated by several bright oil lamps and the small corner held a table set with two bowls and a large loaf of bread. "I hope soup is alright. There's fresh bread and butter as well." Glynnis said with her back to him, her attention on the stove. "I've been listening to the radio. The police are looking for you again. Seems the Dursley's have complained about your rather unorthodox punishment of their little darling." She chuckled at her sarcastic words and turned from the stove. And then Glynnis caught sight of the man in her kitchen and her jaw dropped. "Oh my God," she whispered. Gone was the filthy, ragged nightmare that she'd met only hours before. Instead, she saw a strikingly handsome man with thick waving hair that hung in a shining cascade to his elbows. The flickering illumination of the oil lamps highlighted the light brown sheen into a polished bronze. His face, while still too thin, was clean and shaven and the different clothes made him look like a picture from a magazine.

  
  


"You said they're looking for me again?" he asked, displeasure rife in his voice. 

  
  


"Don't worry," she said breathlessly. "They're looking for the horrifying man you left in the bath." Sirius grinned at her in pure male satisfaction. Glynnis shook her head in mock dismay at his vanity and swatted his arm. She motioned him to sit. He watched her graceful movements as she returned to the stove. While her back was turned, he took the opportunity to study this enigmatic woman to whom he was quickly losing his heart. 

  
  


Strawberry blonde hair hung to her shoulders in a straight line. He'd already noticed her ample charms and took the time to really admire the full curve of her waist and the fluid movement of her hands. He was glad she wasn't skinny like himself. He'd always preferred a woman to be well-rounded and he found nothing lacking in Glynnis. He recalled that her large brown eyes were warm and inviting and the soft curve of her face fit his hand like a custom-made wand.

  
  


He broke off his perusal of her when she turned and approached the table with the steaming pot and ladled thick beef soup into his bowl. It smelled delicious and he attacked it with abandon. She watched him with a sad smile, knowing that he'd probably not eaten in a long while. "Sirius, would like something to drink? I can offer tea or coffee. Wine if you prefer." Sirius stopped eating, the spoon halfway to his lips. "You have wine?" he asked, his eyes wide. Glynnis laughed. "You look like a child whose been offered an entire toy store for Christmas!" Sirius smiled "I haven't had wine since before James and Lily died," he remarked wistfully. "Do you have red or white?" This time Glynnis smirked. "Both. Your choice." 

  
  


"White!" he voted. Glynnis retrieved the bottle from the cellar and opened it. She refilled Sirius' bowl while he poured and then she, too, sat down to eat. She watched as he smelled the crisp white wine. His face was wreathed in a look of profound pleasure as he took a small sip of the apple-tart Chablis and let it linger in his mouth a moment. He sighed with pleasure and tipped his glass to her in appreciation. She returned the gesture and they both drank and Sirius returned to his food. 

  
  


Glynnis waited until he had a rather large mouthful bread before she spoke. "Sirius, I think Harry would be safe here," she announced without preamble. "No one knows me. No one from your world, anyway. Well, except Hermione, but she's alright."

  
  


Sirius swallowed and studied her silently. "Are you certain you know what you're asking? There are risks here."

  
  


"I know what those risks are, Sirius," she reminded him solemnly. 

  
  


"But Harry is a wizard. And if another wizard found him here, one working for Voldemort, your life would be in danger."

  
  


Glynnis considered this a moment. "You're right, of course. Then I suppose the best course of action would be for you to stay as well. When you can," she added hurriedly. "I know you are on the road quite a bit recruiting other wizards on behalf of Professor Dumbledore."

  
  


Sirius gaped at her. "How do you know so much?" 

  
  


She shrugged. "Hermione tells me. Her parents don't really understand your world. They try to, mind you, but sometimes she needs to talk to someone a little less, I don't know, Muggle. Besides, she doesn't like to tell them about this particular aspect of things. A wizard war brewing in the midst of her school wouldn't exactly put her parents at ease. They already have a hard enough time sleeping knowing that she's there at all. She feels she can confide in me."

  
  


"You realize then that someone might use her to find Harry?"

  
  


Glynnis blanched. "I hadn't really considered that. Well, then, I suppose we just won't tell her."

  
  


"Oh, come now, Glynnis, you can't expect to keep a teenage boy and a strange wizard hidden here without anyone noticing do you?" Sirius wasn't sure why he was trying to talk her out of this, especially since it could very well work.

  
  


"Actually, I don't think anyone around here would notice. You haven't been outside, but my house is extremely well hidden. It's at the end of a wooded lane and quite a distance from the other houses. You can see their lights in the winter through the trees but that's all. You and Harry would be safe here, I know it. God knows I have the room. And I'm not here too terribly much. I mean, you would have the house to yourselves quite a bit while I was at work."

  
  


Sirius reached across the table and took her hand. "That would be a detriment, not an asset," he declared sincerely. "Glynnis, are you sure you know what you're asking? I'm wanted by the law, the law of both worlds. Harry is an orphan with some very nasty relatives. You could be getting in very deep here."

  
  


"Sirius," she uttered softly, "I have lived alone in body and spirit for fifteen years. You and Harry are the first people to touch me here," she lay a hand to her heart, "and here," she moved her hand meaningfully to her head, "in all that time. I feel that you two are the first to understand what I'm living with. You have both lost your families as I have, ironically by the same hand. What are the chances of that? You understand my abilities and accept them. Not many people would. Even my own family doesn't know the full extent of what I am capable of. I have lived alone with this most of my life. I'm tired of being alone, Sirius." A single crystalline tear slipped down her cheek. Sirius felt his heart lurch and an emotion he'd not experienced in a very long time surfaced within him like a bubble rising to the surface of a pond. It broke over him and opened up a new and different world than the one he'd awoken in that morning. He stood and gathered Glynnis into his arms. "We'll stay," he vowed hoarsely. "I'll get Harry's things tonight when the Dursley's have gone to bed and bring them here. I need to contact Albus Dumbledore and tell him as well." Glynnis burst into tears and held him tightly. "There, there," he crooned. "You'll not be alone anymore, Glynnie." 

  
  


Glynnis' heart swelled at the endearment and she answered him as best she could, with all her heart wrapped up in a single, sweet, kiss.

  
  



	11. Chapter Eleven/Twelve

  
  


Part Eleven: Night Visits

  
  


Sirius sat on his haunches across the street from number four, Privet Drive, and watched with amusement as reporters and police scurried to and fro in the front of the house. He observed with glee that Aunt Petunia's precious flower beds had been desecrated by trampling feet and that her tidy yard was cluttered with food wrappers and discarded drink cups. He also noted, in the hour or so he'd been hiding among the neighbour's bushes, that the activity was slowly tapering off.

  
  


Just after midnight, the last of the media left as did the remaining law enforcement officials, leaving only two policemen at watch in a patrol car parked at the curb. Sirius observed them for a few moments as they sat talking and smoking, seemingly not too concerned with anything beyond how their football teams were faring this season. When it seemed certain that no one else was coming or going, he ambled out of the bushes and crossed the street into the yard next to the Dursley's. As he'd thought, the officers paid him no mind and he quickly moved into the back yard of number four, his dog's ears attuned to everything around him. At the back of the Dursley home, Sirius stopped and listened. 

  
  


"They seem to think that he won't come back here," Vernon said perturbedly from inside, his loud voice carrying beyond the closed windows. 

  
  


"They don't know anything about him, do they?" Petunia's strident tone made Sirius wish his canine hearing wasn't so sensitive.

  
  


"Course not!" exclaimed Vernon angrily. "No one will ever find out about that one if I can help it. After all we've done for him he goes with that criminal godfather of his without so much as a 'by your leave'. He'd better not show his face around here again. I'll show him what for if he does, that's for certain. Ungrateful little monster. I hope that murdering element he's hooked up with kills him in short order!" As he spoke, Vernon's voice grew louder and louder until he was screaming in rage. "AND I SWEAR IF I EVER SEE THAT MISERABLE WRETCH AROUND HERE AGAIN, I MAY JUST KILL HIM MYSELF!" Sirius could hear Petunia making comforting clucking sounds, much like the old hen she was. He wished they would just shut up and go to bed so he could retrieve Harry's belongings and go home. He smiled inwardly at that. Home. It had been a long time since he'd had a home. And he knew that Hogwarts was the only thing close to a home Harry had ever known. This place never was one, that was certain. Harry'd only existed here until he'd gone to school. 

  
  


After what seemed like hours, the family went upstairs. Sirius gave it another hour after the last lights had gone out before he returned to his natural form. He apparated into the room that had been Harry's. Yellow police tape was draped around the room and through the gaping hole into the next. He noticed that, despite the debris, Dudley was sound asleep in his own bed, his fat arms wrapped around a tattered old stuffed animal. Sirius wanted to laugh at that. Big, brave Dudley, bully extraordinaire, sleeping with a teddy bear. 

  
  


A soft hooting from the windowsill returned him to his mission. "Hello, Hedwig," he greeted softly. He was glad the Dursley's hadn't harmed her. They had, however, locked her in her cage and she was more than eager to be let out. "Hang, on old girl, I'm coming." A quick flick of his wand freed the owl and another flick opened the window which had been rather extensively nailed shut. "Do you know where Harry is?" he asked quietly. Hedwig hooted affirmatively and flew out the window. Sirius then went about gathering up Harry's meager belongings and the textbooks from under the floorboards. He piled them on the bed along with Hedwig's cage, and with a wave of his wand, apparated them into the large airy room that comprised Glynnis' third floor. That done, he moved stealthily down the stairs and opened the closet where Harry's other school things were stored. Again, it took only a flick of his wand to remove the trunk and broomstick. Sirius stood in the now empty closet and looked around at the place his godson had spent the first eleven years of his life. His face hardened with a fury he barely controlled at the thought of Harry being confined to this horrid place. With grim determination he stalked silently back up the stairs, a feral smile on his lips. 

  
  


*******************

  
  


Glynnis watched with amazement as Sirius transformed himself into the huge black dog that was his alter ego. "This side of you could come in very handy," she remarked with mock gravity "I've always wanted a dog. However, I can't help but wonder if you can be trained. Tell me, do you fetch?" Sirius growled at her and pounced, sending her sprawling. She righted herself and threw her arms around him, laughing. He licked her face and she wiped it with a groan. "Ugh! I think that'll do, Rover." She smiled at him again and then sighed and lay her cheek against his giant head. "Be careful, Sirius. It could be dangerous for you. Promise me?" A quiet bark sufficed for an answer and she stood, watching as he bounded off into the park.

  
  


Glynnis gaze lingered on the night shrouded trees for a long time after his black coat made him invisible to her eyes. She was truly worried about his welfare and could only pray that he would be safely returned to her and Harry before long. The cold damp air on her arms brought Glynnis out of her preoccupation with Sirius' well being and, with a shiver, she retreated into the house. She locked the kitchen door against the night, knowing that Sirius needed no key, and padded softly down the hallway to where Harry lay sleeping. 

  
  


She sat on the bed beside him, and held his hand. Reflecting on the events of the past few hours, on her almost instant kinship with Harry and Sirius, she wondered what force had brought her and these two remarkable men together. Was it karma? Some sort of cosmic recompense for their losses? Or an inevitable turn of fate that was predestined long before any of them were even born? Glynnis could only wonder and continually thanked in her heart whoever had been responsible. 

  
  


***************************

  
  


Sirius apparated, as planned, into the kitchen. Glynnis had left a small light burning for him and he left it on as he walked quietly out into the hallway. The house was very quiet, and he wondered if she'd gone to bed. It was, after all, very late and she must be as tired as he was. "I'll check in on Harry and then I'm off to bed as well," he thought. Before he left Glynnis had shown him the small room adjoining Harry's where he could sleep but still be within calling distance. He knew without a doubt it had once been the nursery, but he didn't mention it, only thanked her, grateful for a bed to look forward to. Sirius walked into the room and stopped, his heart swelling within his chest. Glynnis lay on her side next to Harry, one hand holding his, the other beneath her cheek. He stood gazing at the perfect scene for few moments, then, with a tender smile, covered her up with a soft quilt. He lightly kissed her upturned cheek and smoothed Harry's hair from his brow, then retreated to his own bed. The sweet smell and feel of clean, crisp sheets enfolded him and, for the first time since he could remember, Sirius dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  
  
  
  


Part Twelve: The Morning After

  
  


Harry struggled out of deep blackness. He felt weighted down and heavy yet something prickled at the back of his mind, telling him that he needed to surface, needed to fight the drowning pull of sleep. As he pushed himself up from the ooze, his senses seemed to turn on, one by one. First, he heard someone singing quietly near him. "Mom?" he asked silently. The singing stopped and he heard an answer. "It's time to wake up Harry. We're waiting for you." In his mind's eye he saw his mother and father. They were smiling and waving. Waving goodbye. "Wait!" Harry called. "Where are you going?" But his parents' faces were fading and in their places he saw two new faces. Familiar faces. 

  
  


"Harry, wake up." The voice was Glynnis' and this time it wasn't in his head. 

  
  


Next Harry became aware of something warm and wet sliding along his face. A soft hand cupped his cheek and he felt fingers brushing away the wetness. "It's alright, Harry. It's over. You're going to be fine." Harry struggled to open his eyes. His eyelids fluttered with the effort and then abruptly opened. He blinked and remembered. His hand flew to his shoulder and he sat up in panic. 

  
  


"It's alright, Harry, it's gone! The dagger is gone." 

  
  


Harry lay back down and took several deep breaths. When he had managed to calm his racing heart, he opened his eyes. Soft, diffused sunlight filtered into the room. Above him, Glynnis' face took hazy shape. "Hello there," she said cheerfully. Harry squinted up at her, trying to bring her into focus. "Hold on," she said and turned away. A second later Harry's glasses were placed over his eyes and he looked up. Glynnis beamed at him happily. "How are you feeling?"

  
  


Harry thought about that for a moment. Aside from being sore all over, he felt fine. Tired, but much better. He told her as much. She smiled. "I'm glad to hear it," she said as she smoothed back the hair that tumbled over his forehead. "Now, can I get you anything? Something to eat, maybe?" Harry realized that part of what had awakened him was his painfully empty stomach. 

  
  


"I am hungry," he said. 

  
  


"Well, then, something to eat it is. Do you have any preferences or will homemade soup do?" 

  
  


"Soup would be great!" replied Harry.

  
  


"Soup it is," Glynnis declared and she rose to leave. "Sirius will be in momentarily, to help you with, uh, anything else you may need to take care of." Harry wondered about that for a moment then it occurred to him what she meant. He realized that he had to use the bathroom rather urgently just as Sirius voice drifted in from the hall. "I'll see to it, Glynnie," he heard him say and then Sirius entered the room. Harry forgot all about having to use the bathroom and stared at the man before him. "Sirius?" he asked hesitantly. "Is that you?" 

  
  


Sirius laughed. "Quite a change, isn't it? It's amazing what a hot bath and good night's sleep can do for a man. What do you think? Will anyone recognize me?"

  
  


Harry shook his head, his mouth hanging open. "I didn't even recognize you. If I hadn't seen the picture of you from my parents' wedding, I'd have never known who it was. You look so different!"

  
  


"I feel like a new man. Um, Harry, do you need to . . . "

  
  


"Yes," Harry declared, causing Sirius to smile. 

  
  


"I thought as much. Come on, then. Let me help you up." 

  
  


Between them they managed to get Harry into the bathroom to see to his needs. By the time they returned to the bedroom, Harry was sweaty with exertion and exhausted. He sat back on the bed, panting, while Sirius tucked the blankets back in around him, a concerned look on his face. "Are you sure you're feeling alright, Harry?" 

  
  


Harry shook his head. "I'm feeling better, honestly. It's just that I seem so weak. I don't understand it."

  
  


"What isn't there to understand?" boomed Attivus Attlewart from the doorway, causing Sirius to jump. 

  
  


"Don't DO that, Attivus! You've scared me half to death. If I'd had my wand, you'd be a lizard by now."

  
  


"Sirius! That IS you! How delightful you look. Much more like your old self, except for the hair of course. Never knew you to grow it any longer than your shoulders. I like it though. Harry, my boy how are you feeling? No, don't tell me. Better but tired. It's to be expected, my boy, entirely expected. You'll feel a bit like a wrung out dish rag for a few days, then back to your old self after that I dare say." Harry remembered very little of the doctor's visit the previous day and watched in amazement as he carried on this one sided conversation while examining his patient at the same time. Attivus Attlewart had a remarkable ability to answer his own questions very accurately and Harry wondered if the man ever let his patients speak for themselves. Harry winced when the doctor gently prodded his shoulder. "Does that hurt?" Attivus asked.

  
  


"A little, when you press on it," Harry lied. It hurt dreadfully, in fact, despite the fact that it had healed up nicely overnight.

  
  


"Is it painful when you move or raise your arm?"

  
  


Harry gingerly rotated his shoulder and lifted his arm as directed. "It hurts some," he managed through clenched teeth. 

  
  


The doctor peered at him through his triangular glasses with a calculating frown. "Hmmmm. I see. Well, seeing as how it does hurt a little," he noted dryly, one eyebrow raised, "I'll put it in a sling for a couple of days to let it rest." He pointed his wand at Harry and mumbled an incantation. Immediately, Harry's right arm was comfortably settled in a black sling. 

  
  


"Perhaps soup wasn't the best idea," Glynnis remarked from the doorway, a loaded tray in her hands. 

  
  


"Oh, don't worry, Miss Babcock," Attivus reassured her. "Harry can remove his arm for short periods of time. I would prefer he keep it on as much as possible, though, to allow that shoulder to rest."

  
  


"I thought it was healed already," Glynnis commented as she brought Harry the tray and settled it over his lap. She smiled as she watched him ease his arm out of the sling and attack the food.

  
  


"Oh, it's healed, alright," Attivus explained. "However, as with any deep wound, it will take several days for the tenderness in his shoulder to recede. Young Potter here should be good as new in no time, I wager. Anyway, I'm off. I'll check back in a couple of days. If you need before then, Sirius knows how to reach me. Oh, Sirius, that reminds me. Word on the street is that the Ministry is looking for you again in earnest. Not too happy with the brouhaha yesterday involving that Muggle boy. And I'm afraid your little escapade last night has only added fuel to the fire. I would contact Albus Dumbledore if I were you. At least let him know what went on. That's it then. Goodbye Harry, Miss Babcock, Sirius. I'll see you soon."

  
  


"Goodbye, Attivus. And thank you," Sirius called after the retreating physician. A prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck informed him he was being stared at. He turned around and found two sets of questioning eyes looking at him with undisguised curiosity. "What happened last night?" Harry asked. Sirius shrugged innocently. "I retrieved your belongings from the Dursley's, is all." Glynnis stood tapping her foot, her arms crossed over her chest. "Mm-hmm." She was not convinced. "Then what's all this about an escapade?" 

  
  


A mischievous grin fraught with naughty implications lit Sirius' face. "Well," he began, "if you must know . . . "

  
  


*******************

  
  


Vernon Dursley was dreaming. His little family was having a lovely holiday by the seashore. Harry Potter had never intruded in their lives and everything was going swimmingly. He was floating happily in the balmy waves of the Mediterranean, weightless and carefree. The bright sun lit his eyelids and the warmth of summer was all around him. Before long, however, this lovely dream was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of the alarm clock at his bedside and Vernon reached over to turn it off. Strange. No matter how far he stretched his arm, he couldn't reach the table on which his clock resided. He grumbled and pried his gummy eyes open. It was with somewhat of a shock that Vernon realized the lighter than air feeling of his dream was, in fact, a grim reality. For when he opened his eyes, Vernon discovered that he was floating four feet above his mattress. He gave a startled shriek and began to flail about. Suddenly, he plummeted down and landed with a smack on top of his sleeping wife. 

  
  


"AAAAGGGHHHH!" Petunia screamed. "GET OFF ME! HELP! POLICE! MURDER!" She threw all of her substantial strength into pummeling the heavy man who was laying on top of her. 

  
  


"Pet . . . " Vernon tried to speak but his wife only continued to beat on him. He cursed inwardly at the bad habit she'd developed of sleeping with heavy padded night shades on. "Petunia," he tried again, his voice garroted by her elbow on his throat. "Take off those shades!" 

  
  


"AHG! VERNON! HELP!" Petunia screamed, her mouth painfully close to her husband's ear. "You beast! What have you done to my husband?!" If Vernon was pleased by her effort to repay any harm she'd believed done to him, he was unable to express it. Her piercing voice made his ears ring and it was all he could do to fend off the blows that rained down upon his upper body. He tried again. "Petun . . . " But whatever he was going to say was abruptly removed from his mouth in a great, painful whoosh of air as Petunia's bony knee connected with his groin. A strangled croak issued forth from his throat and he rolled sideway off of Petunia and onto the floor. At that instant, the two policemen who'd come to replace the night shift, barged into the bedroom.

  
  


"Hands up!" 

  
  


"Don't move!"

  
  


Vernon hadn't considered moving. It was all he could do to drag breath into his lungs. "Oh, thank God!" he heard Petunia cry. "He was here! He tried to kill me! Did you catch him? Where's Vernon? Oh, Vernon! What did he do to you?!" In a flash, Petunia was beside her husband's crumpled form. "Oh, my darling! Where are you hurt? Why are you clutching your . . . oh, dear! How terrible! Oh, Vernon!" She pulled at his pajamas, trying to ease him onto her lap so she could comfort him. A loud cry from Dudley, however, grabbed her attention, and she bolted to her feet, dropping Vernon's head in the process. It bounced off the hardwood floor with a loud 'thunk'. "Duddy-kins?" He heard her call. "Are you alright?" He felt her pounding footsteps echo through his head as she ran from the room and into the hall. Vernon could hear her asking after their son's welfare and then the door to his room opening. There was a second of silence and then an ear-piercing scream.

  
  



	12. Chapter Thirteen

  
  


Part Thirteen: bear necessities

  
  


Petunia stared in horror at the sight that greeted her when she opened Dudley's door. Dudley, her strong, brave Dudley, was curled up in the far corner of his bed, whimpering and clutching his blankets to his chest, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. 

  
  


"Dudley! What is it?!" she cried.

  
  


A shaking finger pointed at something on his bed. She stepped closer to see what it was. A dark lump was laying next to Dudley's pillow. She came further into the room and squinted in the dim light. When she realized what she saw, she screamed. A shrill, bloodcurdling scream that loosened plaster and sent it raining down on her head. The two policemen came running and stopped dead in their tracks at what they saw.

  
  


Dudley's teddy bear had been neatly dismembered. The arms and legs were stuck at odd angles in Dudley's mattress with long knives. The stuffing in the body had been disgorged and was strewn about the bedcovers and the limp, empty shell was impaled on the wall. The bear's head was laying next to Dudley's pillow, its button eyes ripped out. It had been carefully positioned so that the empty cloth sockets staring in mute horror were what greeted Dudley when he woke.

  
  


*************************

  
  


Glynnis was aghast. "Sirius you didn't!" The roguish grin on his face was testament to the fact that he indeed had and was quite proud of it, thank you very much. Harry doubled over with laughter. "I would have loved to been there . . . to see . . . Dudley's face!" he howled. Glynnis put her hands on her hips. "It's not funny! Sirius, you should be ashamed of yourself. You, too, Harry!" she scolded. "Why, when I think of that poor, defenseless creature being treated in a such a heinous manner . . . " Harry angrily interrupted her. "Dudley!? Defenseless?! How can you say that after what he did? And yesterday was only half of it. Do you have any idea what he's done to me over the years?" 

  
  


"Dudley?" she asked, confused. "I wasn't talking about Dudley! I was talking about the bear!" A smile played at the corners of her mouth as she waited for her statement to sink in. Harry groaned in mock anguish. "Don't worry, Glynnie. It was a quick and painless death!" Sirius assured her jauntily. "Oh, that makes me feel ever so much better," she replied, dryly. She listened to the mirth ringing through the house and joyfully hugged herself. This is what she'd been needing. A house filled with laughter. Something to chase the dark corners away and banish the ghosts that haunted her lonely heart. She smiled at the two of them indulgently. "You sound like a couple of mad hyenas. Now, Harry, when you've quite managed to control yourself, you must finish your soup. Sirius, stop encouraging him!" she admonished as Sirius began to mime ripping the head off an imaginary bear, which made Harry laugh all the more. 

  
  


"Fine then,"she said, with a long-suffering sigh. "Eat it cold."

  
  


"Oh, I'll warm it for him, Glynnie! Don't worry!" 

  
  


Glynnis shook her head in mock consternation. "Wizards," she mumbled and she left the two of them to their fun. It was only after she'd cleared the doorway that the laughter she'd been holding back bubbled out. It echoed down the hall and into Harry's room, and Sirius and Harry laughed all the more. 

  
  


*************************

  
  


"Sirius," Harry said hesitantly. They had calmed down and Harry was back to eating. Sirius looked around the doorway of his small bedroom where he was using his wand to repair his old clothes as best he could. Harry was picking at the soup that remained in his bowl and his face was troubled. "What is it, Harry?" Sirius replied, concerned. "Are you feeling alright? Are you in pain?" He crossed to the bedside and sat down. 

  
  


"No, no. I'm fine," Harry answered. "It's just that, well, am I going to have to go back? I mean, it won't go so well for me this time I don't think, after what's happened with Dudley and all, and this summer was hard enough. And even if they knew the circumstances, and if they believed it anyway, which they won't, I doubt that they'll even have me back so then what's to happen?" All of this came out in a rush and it took Sirius a moment to figure out what Harry was talking about. 

  
  


"Oh, no, Harry!" he laughed lightly. "You're not going back there, I promise you that. I don't care what Dumbledore says, even he can't dispute the fact that your life is as much in danger there as anyplace else. No, Harry. I've found somewhere else for us to stay."

  
  


"Us?" Harry asked, not daring to believe he'd heard correctly. 

  
  


"Yes, Harry. Us. You and me. I'm not abandoning you to the wolves again. I am your legal guardian and it's about time I started acting like it. Glynnis has invited us to remain here. With her. Would that be alright with you? Staying here from now on?"

  
  


Harry's jaw dropped. "Really?" His voice squeaked excitedly. "We can stay here? I mean, live here. With Glynnis? All the time?"

  
  


"Would you like that, Harry?" Sirius asked with a smile.

  
  


"Oh, yes!" Harry shouted. 

  
  


"What's the row?" asked Glynnis from the doorway. "I heard all the shouting and thought there might be a bear loose in the house." She giggled and Sirius felt a shiver of enchantment run through his heart at the sweet, lilting sound. "I just asked Harry if he'd like to move in," he said dreamily. Harry stared at Sirius for a moment who was staring at Glynnis with a very peculiar look on his face. His glance slid to Glynnis who was looking back at Sirius with the same expression. A thought began to flicker in the back of his mind and soon took a rather delightful shape. "I hope he said yes," she said, turning her smile on Harry. 

  
  


The joy on Glynnis' face stunned Harry. No one had ever looked at him like that. "Well at least not since . . . " The thought stopped as abruptly as it occurred to Harry. The last place he'd seen such open welcome and acceptance in anyone's eyes directed at him specifically, had been in the Mirror of Erised. His family had looked at him like that. His mother had looked at him like that.

  
  


"May I have you, Harry?" The heartfelt plea drifted softly into Harry's mind. "You and Sirius? We need each other. And I would very much like a family again."

Harry beamed at her. "I would very much like to stay here," he said quietly. If Harry thought that Glynnis couldn't possibly look any happier, he was mistaken. He suddenly found himself wrapped in her warm embrace. "Thank you," she whispered and she kissed his cheek. And then, with tears shining in her eyes, she left the room.

  
  


Sirius' eyes followed her from the room. "She's wonderful, isn't she?" he remarked. 

  
  


Harry snorted. "You sound like Ron when he was mooning over Fleur," Harry observed.

  
  


"I do not!" Sirius insisted. Then, "Do I?" 

  
  


Harry laughed. "Are you two . . . ?" He left the sentence hanging. 

  
  


Sirius sighed deeply. "It seems so. I can't explain it Harry. She and I . . . we just . . . "

  
  


"I think I understand. I kind of feel the same way. I mean, she's reminds of my mom but that's stupid because I never knew my mother. Not really." There was an unspoken request in Harry's voice. Sirius heard it and smiled sadly. "You're mother would have liked Glynnis. They are very much alike. Your mother had the same sense of humor. The same consideration for those hurt or in need. I think that's why James loved her so much. Why I loved her so much. She was like a sister to me. When they had you, it was the happiest day of their life. And when they asked me to be your godfather, it was the happiest day of mine. They both loved you more than life itself. But you know that." Harry nodded. "It's time, though, to move on, I think. We need someone to take care of us, Harry."

  
  


"I want to stay here. I can't explain why, I just do." Harry mumbled.  
  
"I do, too. And I can't explain it either. But it's a nice kind of can't explain, isn't it?" Sirius grinned impishly. Harry grinned back and then yawned widely.   
  
"I think a nap might be in order. What do you think?"  
  
Harry nodded and yawned again. Sirius removed the tray from his lap and helped him adjust his arm back in the sling.   
  
"Sleep well, Harry. Have pleasant dreams."   
  
Harry closed his eyes and drifted quickly into a peaceful slumber. And he did have pleasant dreams. He was in a real home and had real people to care for him. And in the distance of dreams, his parents were smiling.  


**********************

  
  


Vernon Dursley struggled into his clothes. "I mean it, Petunia!! That murdering marauder can get in here without our knowing it! Without the police knowing it! And there's no telling what he'll do next time! We could all be killed in our beds! Or worse! Remember what happened to Marge? To Dudley? We are leaving this house immediately and going somewhere safe."

  
  


Petunia, who was throwing everything from their drawers into a suitcase, stopped to gape at her husband, who was gingerly pulling up his pants. "Safe!? Where can we go that's safe!? They find Harry wherever he goes, what makes you think they won't find us?"

  
  


"DON'T EVER SAY THAT NAME AGAIN IN MY PRESENCE!" Vernon bellowed. "If I ever, EVER, catch up with that murderer-loving-wizard-school-going-wand-waving-broomstick-riding-four-eyed FREAK, I'll . . . I'll . . . JUST LOOK WHAT HE'S DONE TO MY SON!" Vernon stopped his sputtering tirade and pointed meaningfully at Dudley, who was sitting on the floor rocking back and forth with his thumb in his mouth. Petunia burst into tears. 

  
  


"My poor Duddle-wuddle-kins! Reduced to this! And my dear husband unmanned! It's more than I can bear!" she wailed, and threw herself on top of the open suitcase which promptly slammed shut on her back. "Ouch! Ouch! Oh, Vernon help!" she cried from within the mounds of clothes. Once Vernon had managed to extricate his wife, he closed the suitcase with a snap. "That's it! No more, we're leaving now," he ordered. "I've had enough!" And with that he picked up the luggage and pounded down the stairs. Petunia was left to coax Dudley up off the floor. "Come on, mama's baby boy. Let's go bye-bye with Daddykins," she cooed in a simpering voice. "Doesn't iddle Duddleboo wanna go bye-bye with DaDa and Mommy-wommy? Hmm? Mommy-wommy give her iddle baby boy ice keem. Mmmmm. Duddy-wuddy want ice keem? That's a good boy, come on. We'll get in the car and go bye-bye for ice keem. And candy! Oh, yes, lots of iddle chocolate bunnies-wabbits just for my Yummy Duddle-bunny." Vernon, who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, forced back an urge to vomit as Petunia used the most vile baby talk he could imagine to lure his grown son down to the car. He grimaced as Dudley toddled by, thumb still in his mouth, a worn blanket under his arm. He blamed Harry for all of this. If that boy hadn't come into their lives, none of this would ever have happened. "Some day, Harry Potter," he vowed to himself. "Some day I'll find you. Alone. And you'll pay for this. I swear it!" 

  
  



	13. Chapter Fourteen

  
  


Part Fourteen: FUTURE, PRESENT, AND PAST

  
  


"It's impossible, I tell you! The Ministry simply won't allow it!"

  
  


"The Ministry has nothing to do with it! I am Harry's guardian. I determine where he stays and with whom! It's my legal right!"

  
  


"You are a wanted criminal, Sirius! In their eyes you have no rights!"

  
  


"Harry isn't safe on Privet Drive. Dudley almost killed him!"

  
  


"You mean Voldemort almost killed him."

  
  


"Using Dudley!"

  
  


Harry sighed. The argument between Sirius and Albus Dumbledore had been raging for almost an hour and there was still no resolution. They were all in Glynnis' cozy living room. Sunlight slanted in among the trees and filtered through the large bay windows, throwing ever-shifting patterns on the large, rag rug. Harry watched the colorful play of light distractedly. He sighed again and looked over at Glynnis who was trying very hard to remain inconspicuous in the corner. She smiled confidently and Harry relaxed a little.

  
  


"And who's to say," Sirius continued, "that he might not succeed next time! And if Harry is returned to those . . . those . . . animals, there will be a next time, I can guarantee it!"

  
  


"Well, then, we'll find somewhere else for him," Dumbledore countered. "Somewhere Voldemort won't think to look."

  
  


"Like where?" asked Sirius incredulously. "The Weasleys? The Grangers? That will be the first place he'd look! Think, Albus! No one in our world knows about Glynnis."

  
  


"Miss Granger knows. And her family."

  
  


"Well, then we won't tell them."

  
  


"She's an extremely resourceful young lady, Sirius. Don't you think she'd wonder why she's not allowed over at her only aunt's house anymore? Don't you think she'd figure it out eventually?"

  
  


"Hermione can keep a secret. She'd not let on to anyone that Harry was here." Sirius had not thought this would be so difficult. It seemed the perfect solution to him. Why was the headmaster being so stubborn?

  
  


"What if she were captured? Voldemort has ways of making anyone talk. You know that. He would kill her trying to get the information."

  
  


"He would kill her either way, Albus. You know that as well as I do. Knowing or not knowing wouldn't help her. Or the Weasleys."

  
  


"And what if the Ministry gets wind of this? If they even think you are on the same continent as Harry they will be looking everywhere for him to protect him from you! There will be no safe place. Not here. Not anywhere!"

  
  


"Then you come up with a better idea." Sirius was disgusted with the whole conversation. It was if the wizard most known for his level head had suddenly lost the ability to be reasonable.

  
  


"He'll return to Hogwarts with me." Dumbledore said decisively. "Under my guardianship."

  
  


"VOLDEMORT HAS ALMOST KILLED HARRY THREE TIMES WHILE IN YOUR GUARDIANSHIP, ALBUS!" Sirius shouted, his patience gone. "YOU MIGHT JUST AS WELL TURN HIM OVER TO VOLDEMORT YOURSELF!"

  
  


Dumbledore stared in numb shock at Sirius, his face blanching at the harsh words. 

  
  


Sirius ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Albus. It's just that . . . "

  
  


"You're right," Dumbledore said softly. 

  
  


Sirius frowned, not sure he'd heard him. "What did you . . . ?"

  
  


"I said 'You're right'. I've been a poor guardian. It is my deepest shame that I have been so ignorant to the events happening in my own school. After what happened with Quirrell, and the subsequent safeguards that were put in place, I had let myself believe that Hogwarts was somehow sacrosanct, inviolable. It's been plaguing me all summer. How I could not have known that Mad Eye Moony wasn't himself? How I could have been so unaware of activities going on under my very nose?" 

  
  


Harry looked on with alarm as the seemingly indefatigable headmaster appeared to age right before his eyes. His blue eyes dimmed and his shoulders sagged. Suddenly, he looked as old as Ron had often speculated he was. Sirius stared, concern etched in every feature, self-censure darkening his face. He hadn't meant to say all those things. He didn't blame Dumbledore for what had happened. No one did. Albus Dumbledore was only one of many people fooled by the impersonation of Mad Eye Moony. And as to the other events, they were beyond anyone's ability to figure out.

  
  


Sirius stuttered an apology. "Albus, I didn't mean . . . I was angry . . . please forgive me. It's not your fault, it's mine. I should have . . . "

  
  


The old wizard only waved his hand in dismissal. "No, no. Perhaps I needed reminding that even I am not infallible. I am getting old, after all. Perhaps it's time I . . . "

  
  


"Excuse me, gentlemen," Glynnis quietly interrupted, "but this depressingly awkward scene isn't getting us anywhere. I think, perhaps," she said pointedly with a smile for Dumbledore, "we should consider getting back to the subject. Which, in case you've both forgotten, is Harry's future home. And since you are both dead set on simply defying each other as opposed to actually resolving anything, I believe a third party should mediate. And since that third party would have to be yours truly, I rule that Harry remains with me and the two of you can take this disagreement outside as I highly resent both bloodshed and maudlin self pity in the house, even if it is mutual."

  
  


Albus Dumbledore gaped at the young woman, not entirely certain he'd heard her correctly. "Is she always so forthright, Sirius?" he asked after a moment of silence in which Glynnis only stood there, hands on her hips, regarding them like two schoolboys caught in an undignified act of mischief. 

  
  


Sirius nodded. "In most things, yes. However, there are other matters about which she is somewhat less than forthcoming." 

  
  


Dumbledore frowned in confusion. "How so?" 

  
  


"Well . . . " Sirius began. His letter to Dumbledore had only explained the circumstances surrounding Harry's ordeal in sparse detail. Nothing about Glynnis or her remarkable abilities had been included by a mutual agreement among the three of them. They wanted to have something to use as further incentive just in case Dumbledore balked at the notion of allowing Harry to remain with Glynnis. "Glynnis isn't what you'd call your ordinary Muggle." 

  
  


"What's that supposed to mean?" 

  
  


Sirius looked at Glynnis and then at Harry. They both nodded. Dumbledore eyed the three of them suspiciously. "What's going on? What aren't you telling me?"

  
  


Sirius cleared his throat. "Glynnis has the Sight. She's also telepathic." 

  
  


Dumbledore snorted. "Impossible! Why if that were true, she'd have been educated at Hogwarts."

  
  


"As near as we can tell, Glynnis' abilities didn't appear until she was twelve."

  
  


The old wizard thought this over for a moment, then turned to Glynnis. "Is this true? You have these abilities."

  
  


Glynnis nodded. "My Sight is limited, and I am not very comfortable with it. The part about being telepathic is true as well."

  
  


"Can you speak with anyone? Over long distances?" Sirius looked at Dumbledore suspiciously. Something was cooking in the headmaster's mind, he was certain of it.

  
  


"I don't know," Glynnis replied. "I've never tried."

  
  


"Hmmmm." Dumbledore began to pace absently around the living room, stroking his beard. After a long while, he turned around, his face animated once again, the lines of age and fatigue banished. "Alright, Harry. You can stay." A cheer erupted from three throats at once. "For now," he cautioned with a raised finger. "There is much to be considered here. Not the least of which is how Miss Babcock could have possibly been overlooked in her youth. Although, I daresay, it would explain a great deal about Miss Granger's abilities."

  
  


It was Glynnis' turn to be confused. "I don't understand."

  
  


"It is very rare that a purely Muggle child has the degree of aptitude that Miss Granger has displayed. Usually there is a witch or wizard hiding in their family past somewhere, it is just a matter of finding out where."

  
  


"But," Harry interrupted, "my mother was a Muggle and there are no witches in the family that I know of."

  
  


Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "She was one of those very rare persons I just mentioned. However, as bright as your mother was, Miss Granger is way ahead of her in respect to not only understanding but implementing her abilities. I have long suspected a skeleton buried in that family's closet. No offense intended, Miss Babcock." 

  
  


Glynnis waved it off with a laugh. "None taken. Although I'd hardly qualify as a skeleton with this shape, I'm afraid."

  
  


"You're perfect," Sirius said solemnly. Glynnis blushed, mumbled something about tea and vanished into the kitchen. Sirius watched her go, his eyes shining. Dumbledore watched this exchange with extreme interest and turned to Harry who just smiled and shrugged. "Ahem. Yes, well. How are you feeling, Harry? Any ill effects from your, ah, experience?" Dumbledore asked.

  
  


"I'm fine, sir. I just get tired easily, and Doctor Attlewart says I should be over that in a couple of days."

  
  


"Good. He's been keeping up with you then?"

  
  


"Yes, sir. He was just here this morning." 

  
  


"Excellent. Miss Babcock mentioned tea. Why don't you go and see if you can give her a hand, Harry?" Harry's eyes glanced from Sirius to Dumbledore. It was clear that the headmaster wanted to speak with his godfather alone, so he nodded and retreated into the kitchen.

  
  


"Alright, Sirius," Dumbledore said without preamble, "what else haven't you told me? Attivus has been as closed as a clam on this whole subject. Doctor/patient confidentiality and all that rubbish. But I know that there's more to this story than any of you have let on and I think you should come clean with all of it. The more facts I have at my disposal, the easier it will be to determine what's best for Harry."

  
  


Sirius turned away from Dumbledore's inquiring stare and gazed out the window at the sun-filled front garden. "You'd better sit down, Albus," he said without moving. "This is going to take a while."

  
  


*********************

  
  


"It's too much!" Albus Dumbledore muttered some time later. "Really. I mean what are the odds?" He paced the room thoughtfully, digesting all that Sirius had told him. "There are strange forces at work here, Sirius. Fate has dealt a hand here and we can only let it play out to see where it leads. You're certain of this? All of it?" He turned to face Sirius who was sitting on the window sill.

  
  


Sirius nodded. "I'm certain."

  
  


"Does Harry know?"

  
  


Sirius shook his head. "Not all of it. Glynnis and I wanted to wait until he felt stronger. Attivus agreed. We were going to tell him tonight, if he seemed up to it."

  
  


Dumbledore disagreed. "Not tonight. Now. Harry has a right to know. It could effect everything, including his decision to stay."

  
  


"What's that?" Harry asked curiously from the doorway, his arms loaded down with a silver tea service. Glynnis followed him in with another tray of small sandwiches and sweets.

  
  


"Yes," Glynnis asked with a shy smile. "What are you two plotting?"

  
  


"I was just telling Sirius that it was my opinion that Harry should be told everything he missed while unconscious," the headmaster said with a pointed glance. Glynnis stopped smiling. 

  
  


"Oh, dear," she muttered under her breath as she set the tray down.

  
  


"What are you talking about?" Harry asked from behind the end table where he'd set the tea. He noticed at once the serious faces of the adults. "What's going on?"

  
  


"Well, Harry. . ." Sirius began. 

  
  


"No, Sirius. I'll tell him. It's my place. Harry, come sit by me, please. There's something you should know." Glynnis sat on a small sofa and patted the cushion next to her. Harry sat down, frowning. He got the feeling he wasn't going to like this.

  
  


Glynnis took his hand and smiled sadly. "I don't know how to begin other than to just say it. I was married once, Harry. A long time ago. My husband was an artist named Seamus Babcock and I loved him very much. He was from Ireland and was studying at Oxford when we met. 

He was tall and handsome and loved life so much. We had a son. His name was Derek. He had blue eyes and dark hair, like his father. And he laughed all the time, like his father. He'd just gotten his fourth tooth. They were everything to me. I was working at hospital as a nurse and was going in to interview for a new position. Seamus and Derek were to meet me after at market. They were shopping for my birthday present. I wasn't supposed to know, but I did. Anyway, the interview went smashingly and I knew I had the job. I practically floated over to market, I was so happy. I couldn't wait to tell Seamus. He was so proud of me, you see. Well, I was almost there when I felt the Sight come over me. It was awful. I knew something terrible was going to happen. I fell down, the feeling was so strong. I was close enough to see Seamus looking at me. He knew about my gifts and I'd told him how they affected me. He must have suspected something was wrong because he was coming over to me. He couldn't get through the crowd." Glynnis swallowed. She hadn't spoken of this moment out loud in a very long time. Tears began to run down her face but she was oblivious. For the second time in as many days she was caught in time. Harry watched her with increasing concern as she continued. "When I stood up, I saw two men come running onto the street. They were arguing. Yelling. I couldn't hear what they were saying. Then there was an explosion and I was knocked unconscious. When I awoke, I found out that Seamus and Derek had been killed."

  
  


Harry wrapped his arms around Glynnis. "That's terrible!" he cried. "But why did Professor Dumbledore want you to tell me now?" Harry was a little confused. 

  
  


Glynnis took a breath and continued. "They'd been killed on the street, Harry, along with twelve other people. Almost fifteen years ago, Harry. Derek would be your age."

  
  


Harry stared, not certain what she was getting at. He looked at Sirius and saw that tears were streaming down his face as well. With dawning horror he realized what she wasn't saying.

  
  


"Pettigrew," he whispered raggedly. "Pettigrew killed your husband and son when Sirius confronted him."

  
  


Glynnis nodded. "That's what Professor Dumbledore wanted you to know. We were going to tell you..."

  
  


Harry felt dull anger building in his chest. "Tell me? When?" he demanded.

  
  


"Doctor Attlewart felt we should wait..." 

  
  


Harry cut her off. "Wait until when? Wait until I left for school and then send me an owl 'Oh, by the way, Harry, the same maniac who betrayed your parents murdered my family'!" Harry's voice was choked with unshed tears. "Wait until I was so happy here that I wouldn't notice you were using me to replace your son!" 

  
  


"Harry!" Sirius admonished.

  
  


"Don't!" he yelled, as he put his trembling hands over his ears and fled from the house.

  
  


**********************

Petunia looked around at her new surroundings, her face a mask of disgust. "You can't be serious, Vernon! We can't stay here! It's . . . it's . . . "

  
  


"Perfect." Vernon Dursley cut off his wife's protests and deposited their luggage on the grungy floor. "No one would ever think to look for us here. Besides, I have important things going on at work. I can't afford to miss a day."

  
  


Petunia wrinkled her nose at the oily smell that pervaded the entire room. "But, Vernon," she whined, "it's a factory!" 

  
  


And indeed it was. Vernon had decided that the best place to hide his family was at Grunnings, the drill factory which he directed. In a recent expansion project, he'd discovered an apartment used by the original owner, Grimsby G. Grunnings, whenever he had to stay overnight in town or whenever he and Mrs. Grunnings had their little falling-outs. The furnished rooms had long since fallen into disrepair and had been most recently used to store broken spare parts for outdated machinery. Thus, the whole of the place reeked of machine oil and carbon. It was also remarkably dirty, a fact which galled the very fastidious Mrs. Dursley no end. 

  
  


"You'll have the whole place looking ship shape in no time, Petunia. I've no fear of that. There's a bucket and some cleaning supplies in the janitor's closet down the hall. Help yourself. I've got work to do in the office."

  
  


"Wait!" Petunia shrieked. "You expect me to do this by myself!? It'll take a week to get the grime off the windows alone!"

  
  


"Ah, now, Petty," Vernon cajoled, using his old nickname for her, "you're a wonder with a broom and a dust rag. By dinnertime I expect you'll have the old place shining like a new penny."

  
  


"But . . . but . . . " she sputtered.

  
  


Vernon kissed her cheek. "I'll be back soon enough. Use the intercom if you need me."

  
  


"What about Dudley? How am I supposed to do any work with him in this condition?" Petunia moaned. She pointed at Dudley who was sitting on the floor, ample arms wrapped around his mother's legs in a death grip. "I can't very well drag him along behind me, now can I?" 

  
  


Vernon looked at the pathetic creature at his wife's feet. His large son was raising his arms, begging to be picked up, a look of abject terror on his fat face. Vernon looked away at the sight. "Give him that box of crayons we picked up and some coloring books. That should keep him busy for a while." And with that he picked up his briefcase and headed out. The last thing he saw as he headed down the long hallway toward the office wing was Petunia, trying vainly to pry Dudley off of her ankles. 

  
  


When he finally reached the safety of his office, Vernon allowed himself to shudder at the tragedy they had become. Himself, the director of a large and important manufacturing firm, was hiding out in his factory from his fifteen-year old nephew. Not even a blood nephew, thank God, but a nephew by marriage. It was humiliating. His wife. His wonderful, even-tempered, lovely hostess and keeper of his immaculate home reduced to a screaming harpy. And Dudley. His son. Vernon cringed at the thought of what had happened to his strapping boy as Dudley's terrified face floated in his mind. He loved his son but couldn't help but hate what he'd become. But, as much as he hated this mewling, slobbering caricature that was once his pride and joy, he hated Harry Potter more. And that hate, along with an unquenchable desire for revenge, was all he had to live for now. With that thought driving him, Vernon unlocked his desk and reached into the bottommost drawer. He took out the lock box that rested under the mounds of files and set it on his lap. The lid creaked as he opened it, and nestled in among a large pile of hundred pound notes he'd been garnishing from Grunnings' petty cash allotment over the years was what he endearingly called his 'insurance policy'. A shiny black pistol he'd bought on the black market four years ago. He'd vowed after the debacle in the storm-tossed shack that he would never be caught unaware by them again. He vowed he'd shoot first next time, and ask questions later. Wizard or not, he reckoned they all bled just the same. Dudley'd drawn enough blood from Harry over the years to prove that. And since Harry couldn't legally use that wand of his until he came of age, Vernon felt he had the distinct advantage. An ugly, gloating smile spread across his face as he pictured Harry firmly in his sights, his finger pressing down on the trigger. 


	14. Chapter Fifteen

  
  


Part Fifteen: Lost and Found

  
  


Harry ran blindly until the painful stitch in his side forced him to stop. Even then he kept walking with slow, hitching steps, until the pain subsided. He deliberately forced his mind into a blank page. He didn't want to think. Didn't want to consider Glynnis' words. He knew he'd hurt her with what he'd said, knew that she was probably frantic with worry, but he didn't care. Not yet. He only wanted the emptiness for now. The emptiness meant he didn't have to face his past. Or his future. All he cared about was the present. He would concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. Then, when he was so tired he couldn't move, he would think about it. 

  
  


A dull throbbing in his shoulder reminded him that he'd pulled his arm out of the sling when he started off and he stopped a moment to ease the hurting limb back into place. Only then did he take time to notice his surroundings. 

  
  


Harry was on a small side street that was lined with shops and businesses. He realized, with a little alarm, that some places were closing for the day. He'd not been aware of the time but a distant chiming alerted him to the fact that he'd been gone for several hours. It also occurred to Harry that he was quite exhausted. He sat down heavily on the enclosed stoop of an empty shop and leaned back into the small doorway. From here he could see what was happening around him without drawing undo attention to himself. He watched as people went about their lives, oblivious to him. He wondered what it would be like to be normal. To never know that dark, evil wizards lurked in the shadows. To never know the crippling agony of a crucius spell. To never have been orphaned. Or widowed. The thought came unbidden to his mind. He brushed it aside. To never have had your family destroyed by a single curse. You aren't the only one. Harry turned his head to the side as if to avoid the thoughts of his own making. You aren't the only one who's suffered. "No! I won't think of this now!" he cried to himself. Your mother. Your father. Cedric. "No, no," he moaned, his hands covering his ears. The Diggorys. Neville. Sirius. Glynnis. Hot tears burned down Harry's face as he realized he couldn't avoid it any longer. "Sirius lied to me. Glynnis lied to me," he told himself. No one lied. The didn't tell you because they wanted to be sure you were strong enough. "That's not true! The didn't want me to know!" he yelled to his subconscious. No, Harry. You are wrong. Sirius and Glynnis love you. They want you to be happy. "Sirius loved my parents. Glynnis loved her son. They are both using me to replace what they've lost!" Harry wasn't going to let his own inner voice reason with him, even though he suspected it was telling the truth. Why won't you let yourself be happy, Harry? 

  
  


The question came from deep within his soul and it startled him. He thought about it for a while. "I feel like I'm betraying my parents. I feel like I'm replacing them. And that's not right. Is it?" Harry wasn't sure. He wanted to remain true to his mother and father. After all, they died so he could live. But he didn't remember them. He never really even knew them. All he ever knew was misery with the Dursleys, and even at Hogwarts, he often felt like an outsider. With Glynnis and Sirius you felt like you belonged. "My parents . . . " You're parents would want you to be 

happy. They didn't give their lives so that yours would be miserable. They expected Sirius to raise you. They never knew you'd end up with the Vernon and Petunia. "But . . . " Stop making excuses, Harry. You want to be with them. You want to be part of a family. So do they. Why are you fighting it so? Harry blinked. "I don't really know," he said aloud.

  
  


Harry, what is it you want? A vision came, unbidden, into his mind. A house surrounded by flowers. Laughter. Sirius sitting by his side when he woke up for the first time after removing the blade. Glynnis teasing him about girls while they prepared tea. Love. He wiped his eyes. "I want to go home," he said aloud. Harry wasn't sure, but it seemed to him that his subconscious breathed a sigh of relief. He picked himself up off the shop steps and headed for the intersection ahead, intent on returning to his family. He smiled. "My family," he said to himself. It sounded nice. Harry reached the main street and looked around. Traffic moved by quickly and tall buildings dwarfed smaller food shops. 

  
  


It was with somewhat of a shock that Harry realized he had no wand, no money, and no idea where he was. 

  
  


*********************

"Do you have any idea where we are?" Sirius asked mentally. He and Glynnis were walking along a crowded street, looking for Harry. He was disguised as the dog, using his finely tuned canine senses to locate his missing godson. 

  
  


Glynnis shook her head. "I have no idea," she said aloud, having long ago abandoned speaking to him with her mind. It was harder than she thought to maintain a telepathic link, and she was conserving her strength by keeping only Sirius online mentally. Sirius could hear a tinge of pain in her voice. 

  
  


"Is the headache any better?" he asked.

  
  


"A little," she admitted wearily. "It's still hard to keep up with you, though."

  
  


"I imagine it's because you're not used to it. Like anything, it'll improve with practice," Sirius assured her.

  
  


"Hmm. I suppose. Remind me to ask Doctor Attlewart about it when he comes back, will you? He's due back tomorrow to check on Harry." Glynnis' voice caught in her throat upon saying the name and the tears she'd been holding back threatened to spill over. She ducked, suddenly, into a small alley, sat down on the hard stones, and buried her face in her hands. Sirius put a paw on her lap.

  
  


"Glynnie. It's alright! We'll find him. I've still got his scent. He can't be far."

  
  


"Oh, Sirius! He's so alone and I know he must be tired and hungry and he's got no money, no wand. And he's hurting so inside, I know it! Oh, why did I say anything? And why did I insist we wait before going after him? I should've sent you after him straightaway!" Glynnis' anguish got the better of her and she broke down in sobs. Strong arms gathered her in and she felt herself pulled against Sirius' warm chest. She huddled against him, letting her grief over reliving the past and the worry over Harry's disappearance spill out in a torrent.

  
  


"It's all my fault," she muttered brokenly. "I should never have told him. Told you. I should have let it lie in the past where it belongs."

  
  


"Don't say that!" Sirius admonished, gently. "You had every right to tell him. To tell me. And we had every right to know. This is important. It's important to who you are, and who we are, and who I know we will become. Harry just wasn't expecting it, that's all. And I don't think he's fully recovered from the events of the Triwizard Tournament, either. It was just too much for him right now."

  
  


"Then I should have waited," she wailed.

  
  


"He would have to know sooner or later. And who's to say that later may have been worse. No, Glynnie, you did the right thing. Harry will come round. You gave him time to sort it out. We all agreed that was a wise course. I think it's very likely he's on his way home right now."

  
  


Glynnis sniffed. "You think so?"

  
  


Sirius nodded against her head. "Yes, I do." 

  
  


Glynnis wiped her face on her sleeve and looked up at him, then quickly looked away. "Oh, goodness, I must look a fright!" She began to frantically pat her pockets, looking for a tissue. 

  
  


"Here." Sirius handed her a handkerchief. 

  
  


"Thanks," she mumbled. Then she looked up again at him, her eyes wide with fear. "Sirius! You're yourself! Did anyone see you? Oh, no! I should never . . . "

  
  


He stopped her with a finger against her lips. "Ah-ah. I've not got another," he said with a smile, indicating the now soggy handkerchief. "No one saw me. Even in your distress you were level headed enough to get off the street. No, everyone of these folks is busy going about their business which is, I imagine, going home. And that is where we are headed as soon as we find Harry. Now, perhaps, if you feel up to it, you might try calling him." Glynnis looked up at him, confused. He smiled and lightly tapped her temple. 

  
  


"Oh, yes," she laughed shakily. "That. I think I'm right enough to give it a try. Just let me breathe a moment first." She sighed and lay her head against the man beside her. It had been so long since she'd had anyone to comfort her. It was a wonderful feeling. And even though she was dreadfully worried about finding Harry, a part of her was willing to linger in this moment. 

  
  


Sirius wrapped his arms around Glynnis and felt her sigh against him. "I wish I could figure out what good I'd done in my wretched, self-serving youth to deserve her," he thought. Then he laughed. 

  
  


Glynnis glanced up at him through lowered lashes. "What's so funny?" she asked suspiciously.

  
  


"Me," he said with a grin. "I was just thinking that I must have done something truly amazing to earn you. I just wish I could remember what it was." 

  
  


She smiled against him. "Did you help old ladies across the street? Maybe rescued a litter of kittens from a burning building?"

  
  


He shook his head. "Not that I can recall."

  
  


"How about leaping tall buildings in a single bound?"

  
  


It was Sirius' turn to be confused. "What?" he asked.

  
  


Glynnis giggled. "Never mind."

  
  


Sirius pulled her close in a fierce hug. "You say the strangest things, sometimes."

  
  


Her eyes widened. "I say strange things? I'm not the one who can turn into a dog willy nilly."

  
  


Sirius elevated his nose and looked down at her. "That is because you are but a mere Muggle and I am a great wizard." 

  
  


"Ah. I see," she said, standing up and brushing dirt off her skirt. "Well, there's one thing you definitely have that I don't, Rover."

  
  


"And what's that," Sirius asked, noticing the playful smirk that played across her mouth.

  
  


Glynnis braced herself to run and turned toward the street. "Fleas."

  
  


*****************

  
  


Harry wandered around for a few blocks, searching for anything familiar. Finally, exhausted and hungry he plopped down on a bench outside a large building. "I'll never get home," he groaned. He'd already tried flagging down the Knight Bus but realized he couldn't do it without his wand. He'd tried asking directions, but everyone he'd run into told him something different and soon he was more confused than ever. And to top it all off, twilight was approaching. "Think, Harry," he said aloud. 

  
  


"Harry!"

  
  


He heard his name and looked around. "Glynnis?" 

  
  


"Harry, where are you?"

  
  


"I'm right here!" he called. "Where are you?"

  
  


"Harry! Can you hear me?"

  
  


"Of course I can hear . . . " Harry started then he stopped and muttered a curse he'd heard on one of Dudley's favorite television shows. "Doh!" He slapped a hand to his head. "You are such an idiot sometimes, Potter." Harry took deep breath and concentrated on her voice in his head. "Glynnis."

  
  


"Harry! Are you alright?" He could hear the concern in her voice and it humbled him. How could have ever doubted that she was sincere?

  
  


"I'm fine. I'm just . . . " He couldn't admit it.

  
  


"Just what?" 

  
  


"I'm lost," he confessed.

  
  


"Oh, Harry." Harry could hear laughter coloring her thoughts. "We're on our way. Sirius is tracking you and we should be there soon. Can you give me landmark to look for?"

  
  


Harry looked around. "I'm in some sort of business area. There's a large gray building behind me." Harry turned to check the name. The setting sun glinted off the burnished bronze sign on the facade. "Oh, no," he groaned. 

  
  


"Harry?"

  
  


Harry turned away from the gleaming letters. "I'm at Grunnings."

  
  
  
  



	15. Chapter Sixteen

  
  


Part sixteen: Vernon's revenge

  
  


Vernon Dursley stood and stretched. He'd been working at his desk, rigging the accounts for the week. Several more hundred pound notes graced his little box and he was well pleased with his efforts. He wandered over to the window and looked out at the twilight-coated city. Lights were beginning to shine here and there and he imagined what it would be like to be coming home to Privet Drive about now. Petunia would have dinner ready, a welcome smile on her face. Dudley would be playing video games and he'd join in for a few moments before the table was set. A grim mask settled on his face. That was all gone for now. All because of that miserable nephew of his wife's. Harry. The name alone made him go all cold inside. How he hated that boy. Had hated him from the moment he set eyes on him. How dare those people leave him on their doorstep? What were they? Some kind of charity? Well, they had been these last fifteen years. Giving everything to that boy. He'd wanted for nothing. And how does he repay the debt? By siccing his demented godfather on the family. Vernon shook his head. "Marge was right. It's bad breeding," he said aloud. "Blood will out, she always says, and in this case it's true. I just wish I had that boy here now. I'd give him a dose of blood." A cruel smile curled at his lips, a smile reminiscent of Dudley's. Just the thought of having Harry in his clutches made him happier. "Someday, Potter," he said to the darkening city. 

  
  


He turned to leave when a movement from the sidewalk caught his eye. No one was in this part of town at this hour, not out walking anyway. He immediately thought it was some miscreant or other and waited for the person to come closer so he could get a better look. Whoever it was took a seat on the bench outside. Vernon squinted in the failing light. His breath caught. It couldn't be! It was obviously a teenage boy, judging from the size. From the back all Vernon could see was dark hair. Still, it looked just like Harry. He watched a moment longer, wondering if he should go down for a better look when the boy turned around. 

  
  


Vernon hooted in triumph. He couldn't believe his luck. He backed away from the window before he could be spotted and returned to his desk. He grabbed the shiny black pistol from the bottom drawer and headed for the entrance. Harry Potter was his.

  
  


********************

  
  


Harry sat on the bench and leaned his head back. He'd wanted to meet Glynnis and Sirius halfway but she'd told him not too. 

  
  


"You're too tired, Harry. I can tell just by listening. You wait there. Sirius says he can disapparate us back home."

  
  


Secretly, Harry was glad for the wait. The walk today, coupled with the aftereffects of the dagger had made him tired and weak. He wanted nothing more than a hot soak and bed. Or maybe just bed. Harry half-heartedly considered laying down on the bench but decided he'd better not. He didn't know this area and had no idea who or what might be lurking about. "I couldn't fend off a mouse right now," he thought with a yawn. 

  
  


"What's the matter, Harry? All the trouble you've caused tire you out?" 

  
  


Harry froze. "This isn't possible. This isn't possible." He kept repeating it to himself as he slowly turned, trying to deny the truth that sent rivulets of fear racing down his spine. The hulking figure of Vernon Dursley filled his field of vision. Harry swallowed hard and raised his eyes to Vernon's face which was purple with rage. 

  
  


"Hu . . . hullo, Uncle Ver . . . ," he stuttered but his greeting was violently cut off by Vernon's hand closing around his throat. 

  
  


"I am not your uncle," Dursley ground out through clenched teeth. "I am no relation to you, thank God." He leaned close to Harry who was clutching at Vernon's strong fingers, trying to release the pressure while struggling to breathe. "I am going to teach you a lesson, boy. A lesson I should have taught you long ago. A lesson they should've taught you at that freak school you attend. A lesson in how to treat your betters. Something your guardian," he spat the word, sending a shower of spittle into Harry's face, "should have taught you." Vernon smiled viciously. 

"But I see that your infamous godfather isn't here. That's too bad. I would like to teach him this lesson as well." 

  
  


Vernon abruptly released Harry, who fell gasping to the sidewalk. His moment of respite was short lived, however, when Harry was grabbed roughly by the unruly hair that Vernon had so despised and hauled to his feet. Something black and shiny was dancing before Harry's eyes and he realized with mounting terror that it was a gun. Vernon held it just inches from his forehead. 

  
  


"You're going to come with me, Harry. No fighting. No struggling. I'm not terribly used to this," he waggled the gun, "and would hate to have it go off. Prematurely." Harry nodded as best he could and the cold steel barrel moved down to press painfully into his ribcage. Vernon then released Harry's hair and grabbed his half-healed shoulder. Harry's knees buckled beneath him as the strong fingers dug cruelly into the tender flesh. A cry of pain escaped his lips and Vernon laughed. 

  
  


"Are you injured, Harry? How dreadful." Vernon laughed again and tightened his grip. Harry's vision started to blur around the edges and he stumbled. Vernon grabbed the back of the sling and pulled it up short. "Don't," he warned with a hiss and he proceeded to drag Harry into the building.

  
  


************************

  
  


Glynnis and Sirius walked quickly toward Grunnings, Sirius having returned to his normal form now that he no longer needed to track Harry. His long strides ate up the sidewalk and Glynnis was nearly racing to keep up. Finally, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to a slower pace. "Slow down, Rover!" she laughed breathlessly. "Else you'll end up carrying me."

  
  


"Whatever you say," Sirius grinned and he swept her up in his arms. 

  
  


Glynnis squealed in surprise. "Sirius! What are you doing?" she gasped.

  
  


"Didn't you request transportation?" he said teasingly.

  
  


"Put me down this instant, before you hurt yourself. I'm heavy."

  
  


Sirius looked into her eyes and smiled gently. "You're perfect," he stated firmly. Glynnis blushed, a trait that Sirius found very endearing, and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

  
  


"No, Sirius. You're the one who's perfect." And she leaned forward to capture his mouth in a deep kiss.

  
  


Suddenly, her back arched and a hoarse cry escaped her lips. Sirius almost dropped her as the unexpected movement threw them off balance. "Glynnis!" He fell to his knees, trying to keep her from tumbling to the ground. "Glynnis! What is it? What's wrong?"

  
  


"Harry's in danger," she whispered, her eyes wide, the pupils dilated. She repeated it again and again, each time louder than the time before until she was shrieking uncontrollably. "Harry's in danger! Harry's in danger!" Unable to calm her, Sirius did the only thing he could think of. He slapped her across the face. Glynnis went limp in his arms. "It's just like before," she whimpered. "It's all happening again. Oh, God! I can't take it, Sirius. Harry's going to die and I'll be too late! He'll die just like Seamus and Derek and I won't get there in time to save him, to stop it!" Glynnis was crying hysterically and clutching at Sirius' shirt. Her face was wet with tears of frustration and emotional agony. Sirius pulled her to her feet.

  
  


"Glynnis, look at me." She didn't respond. He shook her firmly. "Glynnis!" he repeated loudly. "LOOK AT ME!" This time she complied, raising her tortured eyes to his. "Do you know what Grunnings looks like?" She just stared at him. He shook her again, harder. "Answer me! Do you know what Grunnings looks like?" She nodded, hesitantly. "Listen to me. Are you listening?" She nodded again. "You will not be too late this time. All you have to do is show me Grunnings. I can take us there instantly. Do you understand?" 

  
  


"How can I show you?!" she wailed. "It's blocks away!" 

  
  


Sirius took her head between his hands, his eyes boring into hers. "Think, Glynnie, think! Picture it in your mind and show me." Glynnis' mouth rounded into a silent "Oh" as it dawned on her what he meant. She closed her eyes and in a matter of seconds Sirius knew exactly where they were going. He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her close. With the other he pulled the wand from his pocket. 

  
  


"Hang on."

  
  


Glynnis pressed closer to his side. Sirius waved his wand and blackness swallowed them.

  
  


**********************

  
  


Harry no longer had to clench his teeth against the pain. His entire shoulder was now numb. He knew that he'd have massive bruises when this was over. "If I survive it," he thought grimly. In the past few minutes, he'd tried to focus enough to call Glynnis. He didn't know if it would work, with him initiating the contact. After all, he wasn't the one who was telepathic. However, he had been able to speak with her earlier so it couldn't hurt to try. Only problem was, every time he'd clear his mind and try to focus, Vernon would change direction or give him a rough shake and the pain would once again course through his shoulder and his concentration would be lost. 

  
  


"He has to stop sometime. Then I'll try," Harry thought as Vernon dragged him through one large factory room after another. Then, as if reading his thoughts, Vernon abruptly stopped and hurled Harry to the floor.

  
  


"This should do it," Vernon stated to the empty room. Harry lifted his pounding head and looked around. They were in a large square room that was filled with boxes. A sign over the door ominously proclaimed NO WAY OUT FROM THIS LOCATION. A huge overhead door at the end indicated a loading area of some kind and the ceiling above was hung with all manner of motor boxes and large hooks attached to long cables. An enormous spool of rope was off to one side and several of the nearby boxes were wrapped for shipping. 

  
  


Harry searched the room desperately with his eyes, looking for any way out or anything he could use against Vernon if it came down to that. He never saw the vicious kick that connected with his ribs. He only felt the breath leave his lungs and the bones crack on impact. 

  
  


"I asked you a question, Harry," Vernon snarled. "I expect an answer, boy!" Harry only groaned from his curled position on the floor and tried not to be sick. His breath came in short hitching gasps. The very act of pulling air into his body sent misery knifing through his chest. "Well?"

  
  


Harry had no idea that Vernon had spoken before, much less asked a question. He formed the words in his mind and then managed to force them out. "I don't know what you said."

  
  


"You weren't listening? You should always listen when your betters speak, Harry." Vernon leaned close to Harry's ear. "Another lesson you'll have to learn." His voice was icy cold and hard as stone. Harry trembled in fear. For the first time in four years, he was truly afraid of Vernon Dursley. 

  
  


**************************

  
  


"Where are we?" Sirius asked. 

  
  


Glynnis looked around. Gone was the sidewalk and the street around them. They were now inside a plain looking lobby with doors leading off in several directions. "We're in the lobby of Grunnings. I was here once, about a year ago. I had to ask directions to somewhere else. I remember it because Hermione had mentioned Harry's uncle worked here. I wanted to see what kind of place would employ someone like that."

  
  


"Do you have any idea where they might be?"

  
  


Glynnis shook her head. "I've no idea. I've not been any farther than this." She looked at Sirius solemnly. "You'll have to find him, Sirius. And fast."

  
  


Sirius nodded and instantly transformed himself once more. A few quick sniffs and he bounded off to the last door. Glynnis opened it and followed him inside. A maze of machinery greeted them. Sirius barked and headed for the back of the huge room, leading Glynnis into the bowels of the darkening factory. 

  
  


***********************

  
  


Icy water brought Harry back to consciousness. It ran down his face and back and caused him to shiver, an action that further exacerbated the agony already inflicted on him. He opened one of his eyes, the other having swollen shut several minutes ago, and feebly spat out the blood that had pooled in his mouth. 

  
  


"Back among the living, I see," Vernon crowed. "Well, don't worry, you'll be out of my misery soon enough." He laughed. "I'm sorry, did I say my misery? Of course I meant your misery. In a few moments you won't feel a thing." Vernon's fingers slid along the gun's barrel in a grisly caress.

  
  


"You're insane," Harry mumbled through his split lips. 

  
  


"What did you say? You aren't speaking out of turn, are you?" Vernon demanded, pressing the gun into Harry's broken ribs. Harry blanched and an unwilling scream escaped. Vernon smiled nastily. "I didn't think so. I would hate to have to go back over what you've already learned." His voice didn't sound sorry. In fact, Vernon sounded like he would enjoy teaching Harry all day. Harry braced himself for more of Vernon's 'lessons' but instead of lashing out, Vernon only sighed. "It's time to end school for today, I'm afraid. Petunia must have dinner ready by now and I don't want to be late. You know how worried she gets when Dudley or I are late. Not that she ever wondered where you were," he added cruelly. 

  
  


Harry watched as Vernon backed away. He watched as his uncle brought the gun up even with his head. Harry knew that his uncle was going to kill him. He thought for a second about how Glynnis had promised him he wouldn't die soon. Harry almost laughed. "Even those with the Sight can be mistaken, I guess," he thought. 

  
  


Harry had often wondered what his last thoughts would be, especially these last couple of months. Oddly enough, he wasn't thinking about his friends or family, but of how he would not die afraid. Harry stared straight down the gun's gleaming black barrel and met Vernon's eyes. "I will not flinch," he promised himself. "I will not let him see me afraid." Vernon must have seen this resolve in Harry's eyes for he lowered the gun a fraction and stared back at his nephew, puzzled. 

  
  


"I'm going to kill you, you know! Don't you understand that?"

  
  


Harry nodded. "I understand."

  
  


Vernon frowned. "Aren't you afraid?"

  
  


Harry shook his head.

  
  


"You think I won't do it," Vernon stated smugly.

  
  


Harry shook his head again. "I think you'll do it. I am simply not afraid of you anymore, Vernon."

  
  


Vernon took notice of Harry's lack of title for him. "Show some respect, boy," he growled, raising the gun again. "Hell waits with open arms for the likes of you."

  
  


Harry wheezed out a chuckle, although his body protested greatly at the effort. "I have faced the devil. More than once. And he's not in hell, he's right here in England. And guess what? He's coming for all of us. Muggle and wizard. And only the wizards that you hate so much can save you." 

  
  


"You expect me to believe that? You're lying, Harry. You have always lied." His finger reached for the trigger and he smiled. "Say hello to your parents for me."

  
  



	16. Chapter Seventeen

  
  


Part seventeen: OF DEATH AND DYING

  
  


"Are we close?" Glynnis asked Sirius as they crept silently along through the empty factory.

  
  


"Yes. Almost there. The scent is getting stronger." Sirius' thought stopped abruptly and Glynnis could sense his growing unease. 

  
  


"What is it?" He didn't answer. "Sirius!" she demanded. "What is wrong?"His answer sent shivers of apprehension down her spine. 

  
  


"I smell blood."

  
  


Glynnis didn't need to ask who's blood he smelled. She knew it. "Oh, please let us be on time," she prayed. "Please, God. Just this once." Beside her, Sirius slowed down. She knew that whatever they faced was just ahead. Suddenly, a shout of pain echoed down the hallway. The sound seemed to grow as it careened off the walls. "Harry." Glynnis' whisper carried like a scream through the long corridor. Sirius was already bounding ahead. She ran to catch up, once again praying that they weren't too late. She turned a sharp corner and found Sirius blocked from continuing by a sliding metal door. She ran to it and pulled. 

  
  


The door opened silently. Sirius padded in, hackles raised, with Glynnis right behind him. She nearly gasped in horror at what she saw and only her hand against her mouth stopped the sound from betraying their presence. 

  
  


Harry was half kneeling, half lying on the floor. His face was bloody and bruised, one eye swollen shut. She could see dark bruises around his neck. He was staring at a large beefy man who was holding something. Glynnis craned her head to get a better view and just as she realized that he was holding a gun, she heard his chilling words. 

  
  


"Say hello to your parents for me." 

  
  


"NO!" she screamed as Sirius make a huge leap toward the man. He turned and saw the large dog heading his way. A wave of rage engulfed his features and a shot echoed through the room. Sirius yelped and dropped to the floor from midair. Glynnis took the split second distraction to reach Harry's side. She covered him with her own body as best she could and faced the gunman who had returned his attention to his intended victim.

  
  


"Stand aside, woman!" the man hissed vehemently. 

  
  


"I won't," Glynnis said evenly, surprised at the calm in her voice. 

  
  


"Who are you? One of Harry's freak friends? Where's your wand or whatever it is you use for your little spells?"

  
  


"I am Harry's friend but I'm not a freak and neither is he. Just who in the hell are you?" Harry was trying desperately to push her aside. "No, Harry. Stay still."

  
  


"It's Uncle Vernon. Did he kill Sirius?" he asked. His words were slurred with pain and she knew that his split lips made speaking difficult. 

  
  


"I don't know," she whispered. "I think he's alive."

  
  


"What are you two whispering about over there?" Vernon demanded. 

  
  


"We are trying to determine whether or not you killed my dog," she said saucily.

  
  


"You should be more worried whether or not I'll kill you. NOW STAND ASIDE!" Vernon was purple with rage.

  
  


Glynnis could see the veins standing out in Vernon's neck. They were trapped and she knew it. Sirius was hurt. He wasn't dead, she was certain of that, but he wasn't going to be able to help. She knew in her heart that she would do anything to protect Harry, even if it meant she had to die herself. She raised her chin in defiance and stared at the man who had brought Harry up. "No. If you want Harry, you'll have to go through me first."

  
  


Vernon narrowed his eyes. "So be it." And a second shot rang out. 

  
  


**********************

  
  


Sirius lay unmoving on the floor, stunned. The bullet had ripped through his left shoulder and out through his back. He slowly regained his wits and decided that, other than bleeding heavily, he could function. And he knew that, even if it meant losing every last drop of blood, he would do whatever it took to keep Vernon Dursley away from Glynnis and Harry. He turned his head and saw Glynnis facing off against Dursley. He was filled with loving pride at her defiance and knew that she, too, was prepared to die to save his godson. Sirius gathered his strength and waited. He could return to his own form and reach his wand, he just needed another minute to catch his breath. Without warning, the gun barked a second time. Sirius watched with horror as Glynnis' body took the full force of the bullet. Still, she refused to move. 

  
  


***********************

  
  


Harry tried desperately to push Glynnis away. "Don't do this," he begged. "Glynnis, he'll kill you. Please get out of the way."

  
  


"No, Harry. I won't let him kill you. I've already lost those I loved once, I'll not let it happen again."

  
  


"Glynnis! Please." But Harry was too late. He yelled in terror as the shot echoed loudly in the large room. Glynnis jerked against him and he knew she'd been hit. He clutched at her, trying to force her away but she held onto him and wouldn't move. Tears ran down Harry's face as he begged her again and again to let go but she only tightened her grip. 

  
  


"You must live, Harry. You have to. You still have a part to play. The world needs you."

  
  


"Glynnis." Harry was sobbing. "You can't die either. I've finally found a family. I can't lose it now. If you die where will I go? Back with the Dursleys? I'd rather he kill me now than face that."

  
  


Glynnis raised a shaking hand to caress Harry's cheek. A single tear fell from her eye. "I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly. "Tell Sirius I'm sorry." Then her hand slid from his face and she dropped limply to her side.

  
  
  
  



	17. Chapter Eighteen

  
  


Part Eighteen: Choices

  
  


Vernon Dursley had no idea the dog behind him was still alive until sharp fangs sank deep into his wrist. He dropped the gun with a scream of surprise and alarm and tried to pull free, only to drive the sharp teeth deeper into his flesh. He kicked out with his foot and connected solidly with the animal's side. The dog let go and backed away. 

  
  


Vernon passed a shaking hand over his eyes and blinked. He looked around the room, wide-eyed, at the carnage surrounding him. There was blood everywhere. The huge black dog was bleeding from a wound in its chest, nearby a strange woman lay still in a pool of blood, and Harry. Vernon stared. Harry was a bloody mess, too. Severely beaten and barely conscious, Harry half lay over the woman as if to protect her from further harm. 

  
  


Harry fixed Vernon with his one good eye. "Why," he sobbed brokenly. "Why did you do this?"

  
  


Vernon simply backed away, holding his injured wrist and shaking his head. He looked confused and dazed, almost mesmerized. Harry watched him as he left the room, shaking his head in disbelief as he walked away.

  
  


"Harry." The voice was coming from behind him. "Harry, help me." He turned. Sirius was trying to drag himself over to where he and Glynnis lay. Blood stained his shirt and one arm was hanging limply at his side. "You'll have to . . . hold on to me," he gasped out as he reached the injured pair, "and Glynnis if you can."

  
  


"Sirius," Harry choked. "He killed her. He killed Glynnis." 

  
  


Sirius acted as if he hadn't heard. "Hold on to her. I can get us out of here but I can't hold you. I need my hand free."

  
  


"Sirius!" Harry yelled, his voice cracked with grief. "She's dead! Glynnis is dead!"

  
  


Sirius shook his head. "No. Not dead. Not yet. Hold on Harry."

  
  


Harry stared at his godfather, then, at Glynnis. He couldn't believe she was still alive. The bullet had gone into her back and hadn't come out. She was lying on her side in a pool of blood. Harry reached out for her and then pulled back. In his mind's eye he saw Cedric Diggory lying cold and dead beside him. "I can't do this again." 

  
  


Sirius put a hand on Harry's arm. "You have to, Harry. She'll die if we leave her and I only have enough strength to do this once."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and reached out again for Glynnis. He took her cold hand in his and then took Sirius' injured arm. Sirius winced as Harry grabbed hold but said nothing. He simply pulled out his wand. "Hold on," he whispered.

  
  


In a far corner of the room, behind some packing boxes, a figure appeared out of nowhere as the trio disappeared. An invisibility cloak, similar to Harry's, was tossed carelessly over one shoulder. He surveyed the bloodstained floor and grimaced. This hadn't gone well. Dursley was supposed to kill Potter. How the stupid Muggle had managed to override the Imperius Curse was beyond him but there was naught he could about it now. Potter was gone and still alive. His teacher would not be pleased. On the other hand, he'd learned some valuable information that might appease his wrath. Sirius Black was animagi. That was interesting. Very interesting. Yes, perhaps his teacher would forgive this one breach for that little tidbit. 

  
  


**********************

Glynnis wandered through the garden, enjoying the soft warm sunshine. She wanted to ask the gardener how he managed to get that particular shade of orange in the tulips but try as she might, she couldn't find anyone around to ask. Even that didn't seem to matter as she explored bed after bed of the most beautiful blooms she had ever seen. She inhaled their lush fragrances and let the heady scent fill her. A quick zephyr pulled white blossoms from a nearby tree and sent them spinning around her. Glynnis spread her arms wide and twirled gaily, trying to catch the sweet-smelling petals in her hands. She couldn't remember when she'd been this happy. Yet something niggled at the back of her mind and she couldn't shake the feeling that she should be somewhere else right now. For the life of her, she couldn't remember where, but something just wasn't quite right. The sound of windchimes caught her ear and, on a whim, she followed the tinkling music. 

  
  


The windchimes stopped as Glynnis stepped onto a white gravel path that wound in among young flowering trees. She followed the path, her feet barely making a sound as she walked. Ahead of her loomed a small gazebo surrounded by white roses. A person sat there on a bench as if waiting. Glynnis approached.

  
  


"Welcome, Glynnis."

  
  


Glynnis stared at the beautiful woman who greeted her. She was tall and willowy, with skin the warm color of cocoa. Her black hair hung in hundreds of tiny braids down her back and her white silk dress hung by a single wide strap across one shoulder. 

  
  


"Who are you?" Glynnis asked. "Do you know where I am?"

  
  


"I am Daphne. I am a guide."

  
  


"A tour guide? For the garden? It's very lovely."

  
  


Daphne laughed, a soft sound like falling rain. "No. Not a tour guide. Not exactly. I am a guide to the other side of life. I have come to offer you a choice."

  
  


"A choice?" Glynnis was confused. What did all this mean?

  
  


"What do you remember, Glynnis?"

  
  


Glynnis smiled. "I twirled in the sunlight while white flower petals drifted on the breeze around me." She spread her arms and spun around as she had as a child. "It was wonderful!"

  
  


"No, Glynnis," said Daphne gently. "What do remember before the garden?"

  
  


"Before the garden? I . . . I don't remember anything." Glynnis didn't remember. It seemed there had only been the garden but she knew there was more. She told Daphne as much. "It's as if I should be somewhere else, but I'm not sure where," she said finally, her voice sad with loss.

  
  


Daphne took her hand. "Come. I will show you." She took Glynnis' hand and led her to a silver gazing globe. 

  
  


Glynnis touched it hesitantly. "I have one of these," she said with some surprise. "I know I do, but how can that be?"

  
  


"You have one at home," Daphne explained. 

  
  


"Home?" Glynnis said in a small voice. This should mean something to her but she couldn't place it.

  
  


"Look," said Daphne as she passed her hand over the globe's surface. Glynnis watched in fascination as her life passed before her eyes. She relived everything in a matter of moments. Everything up until Vernon Dursley shot her. Then the gazing globe went blank. Glynnis had her band pressed against her mouth. She was shocked. How could she have forgotten? How could she not remember? "Oh my God! Harry! And Sirius! Oh, Daphne, what happened to them? Are they alright? Oh, please tell me they're alive!" She turned to the guide with tears in her eyes. 

  
  


Daphne gestured to the globe once more.

  
  


********************************

Attivus Attlewart had had a long day. "Why is it that all the Grimalkin sisters have their babies all at once?" he asked his feet as he kicked off his boots and wiggled his toes. "I would not have thought it possible for seven women in one family to conceive on the same day four years in a row." The doctor stretched back in his chair and a fat black cat jumped into his lap. Attivus scratched under the offered chin and continued speaking. "And to top it all off, they have the ugliest babies I have ever seen. I know all babies are supposed to be beautiful and all that, but you can only lie so often. Poor things. They look just like their mothers. Don't know how those girls can even get their husbands to . . . well, anyway. They do say love is blind. It would have to be in their case. Either that or they've perfected love potions in the last five years." He shuddered. "I don't know, Mistofolees. Maybe I should retire. What do you think?" The cat only purred and offered his back to be scratched. Attivus laughed. "I thought that's what you'd say." 

  
  


All at once the cat's relaxed demeanor vanished. His back arched and his fur stood up. Attivus sighed and set the animal on the floor. The only time the cat reacted like this was when someone was about to apparate into the room. He didn't know how the cat knew, but then again, this cat did many things he was at a loss to explain. "I guess it's back to work," he groaned as he hauled himself to his feet. 

  
  


With a loud thunk his guests hit the floor. Attivus gasped. Sirius and Harry and Glynnis were laying in a heap. All unconscious, all covered in blood. He reached into a pocket and threw a handful of powder into the fireplace behind him. A shimmering face appeared. "Attivus! What a plea . . . "

  
  


The doctor cut him off abruptly. "I need you here now! Bring Lupin!" He turned his back unceremoniously to the flames and hurried over to his three new patients. A quick examination told him that Glynnis was the worst for wear. He made quick work of his wand and sealed the gaping hole in her back, stopping the blood flow for the moment. It wasn't enough, he knew, but he hoped it would hold her for now. Saving her would take all his skill and he needed to see what he could do for the other two until help arrived. With that thought, Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin appeared before him. Remus gaped in shock and Albus muttered an expletive under his breath. 

  
  


"What happened?" Dumbledore demanded as he knelt next to Harry. 

  
  


"I have no idea. They just apparated in here. All unconscious." Attlewart was busy sealing Sirius' wound. "Take her upstairs. First door on the left," he commanded Lupin, who was still recovering from the shock of seeing so much blood on three people. 

  
  


"Harry. And Sirius," he stammered.

  
  


"In better shape than her. You're familiar with the house, now move!" 

  
  


Remus knew from experience that Attivus' tone meant business and he quickly elevated Glynnis and took her to the designated room. Attivus had elevated Sirius and was following Remus. He turned to Dumbledore. "Bring Harry."

  
  


Before long, Glynnis, Harry and Sirius were in separate beds in the large room Attivus used as an infirmary. Remus waited anxiously by the bed as Attivus saw to Sirius' injuries.

  
  


"Sizeable hole. Lucky it didn't hit his heart. Damn Muggles and their guns. Seen this before. Not in a while, mind, but I've come across it. Woe to any wizard caught unawares. These things can kill faster than any curse I've ever heard of."

  
  


Dumbledore interrupted the doctor's ever present running commentary. "Will he live, Attivus?"

  
  


Attivus nodded. "Aye. He'll live. No thanks to whoever is responsible." He stood. "I've done what I can for now. Harry's next." And with that he moved onto the next bed where Dumbledore was busy removing Harry's clothes. Lupin followed and his face blackened with rage as he took in Harry's battered body. Huge black and purple bruises covered Harry's ribcage and stomach. His injured shoulder had the distinct imprint of a large hand imbedded in the flesh. Various other bruised covered his arms and legs. "Who could have done this?" he spit out through clenched teeth. 

  
  


"I have no idea," answered Attivus, "but I hope I never find myself alone with them. Doctor or not, I'll tear them apart. No one deserves to be treated like this." 

  
  


Albus watched as Attivus examined Harry, shaking his head. "What's the damage?" he asked grimly.

  
  


"Four broken ribs. Bruised kidneys. Bruised larynx. And if I'm not mistaken," he added as he gently probed Harry's abdomen, "a ruptured spleen. Damn it! Harry cannot take this right now. He's been through enough. The exhaustion from the dagger incident is compounding matters. He has very little energy left as it is, without having to recover from this. Stand aside, Remus, I need room." With a wave of his wand, he went about the business of repairing Harry's broken body. Under the black and blue marked skin, bones mended and organs healed. After five minutes, Attivus was drenched in sweat with the effort. By the time he was finished ten minutes after that, he was breathing heavily and trembling. 

  
  


Remus reached out a hand to steady him. "Attivus! Are you okay?" he asked, concerned. 

  
  


Attivus waved his hand in dismissal as he slumped into the chair Dumbledore had conjured for him. "Fine. Fine. It's just that healing takes a toll on the healer. Any fool can wave a wand around and perform first aid but the deep stuff takes it out of you. I'll have to remove that spleen the old-fashioned way, you might say, but that can wait. For now, I just need a moment." The doctor closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. He grew very still and seemed almost trance like for several long moments. Then his eyes snapped open and he surged to his feet. "Ah, yes. Much better. Nothing like a short nap to refresh the tired spirit, I always say. Now then," Attivus sobered, "I must see to Miss Babcock." 

  
  


He went to the bed where Glynnis lay, unmoving, on her stomach. The angry red wound where the bullet had entered her body was no longer bleeding, but that wasn't what worried the doctor. She'd lost a large amount of blood and the bullet was lodged very near her heart. He sighed and paced around the bed.

  
  


"What can you do for her, Attivus?" Dumbledore asked from where sat holding her hand.

  
  


"Hmmm. That's the tricky part," Attivus frowned. "These bullet things, those are what's in the gun, cannot be removed by magic. I have to remove it by hand. I'm trying to figure out the best way to do that. You see, the bullet has done a lot of damage on the way in and Miss Babcock is very weak. I would wait until she was stronger, but these things tend to cause infections very quickly if not taken out."

  
  


"Can we do anything to help?" asked Remus.

  
  


Attivus looked up at him quizzically. "Have you a strong stomach, Lupin?"

  
  


**********************

"I'm dead, aren't I?" Glynnis asked Daphne.

  
  


Daphne laughed again. "No. Not quite. You see, that is where you have a choice. You must decide, Glynnis, where you will go now. You may choose to return from whence you came." Her hand passed the globe and the scene at Grunnings returned. "Or you may choose to remain here." She swept her hand in the direction of the gazebo and there stood Seamus and Derek, just as they were the day she last saw them. Seamus waved in greeting and Derek smiled, the bright sun glinting off his tiny teeth. 

  
  


"What if I make the wrong choice?"

  
  


Daphne shrugged. "There is no wrong choice. There is only one choice. You will make it."

  
  


"I don't understand what you mean."

  
  


"It means that whatever choice you make will be the one that has to be made. You have spoken of fate. Think of it that way."

  
  


"So the choice has already been made for me?" 

  
  


"In a manner of speaking. Don't worry too much about it, Glynnis. Once you have decided, all of this will be erased from your memory and you won't remember ever having been here or ever having chosen."

  
  


"What if I chose to go? What will happen then? What of Sirius? Of Harry and this evil wizard who is trying to kill him?"

  
  


Daphne smiled sadly. "I'm afraid I can make no guarantees. I can only tell you this. In the battle of good over evil, good will always win. But it is a battle and pain will be suffered and lives will be lost."

  
  


"What if I choose to stay?" 

  
  


"Then you will rejoin your husband and son. You will live here as if nothing had ever happened. You will have no knowledge of what went before."

  
  


Glynnis chewed her lip. Her gaze was torn between the scene in the globe and Seamus and Derek waiting for her. "I don't know what to do!" she wailed in despair. "Either way I make a selfish choice! Either way I hurt someone I love! I can't decide. I can't think."

  
  


Daphne put a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "Clear your head. Do not let your mind make this decision. This is a choice of the heart, Glynnis. Listen to what it tells you."

  
  


Glynnis hung her head and the tears fell from her eyes into the soft grass at her feet. She was torn in two. Two lives waited for her and she wanted them both. She raised her closed eyes to the blue sky above her and felt the breeze drying the tears on her face, felt the sunlight brighten her vision and let the glow of it's warmth fill her. Everything around her was quiet. She willed her tormented mind to be still and did what she always did when she was troubled. She let the sound of the wind playing on the leaves fill her ears. She let the birds take her soul heavenward. She let her heart free to decide. She opened herself. 

  
  


"Glynnis." 

  
  


The voice was plaintive, yearning. 

  
  


"Come back to me. Please. We need you. I need you." 

  
  


A single tear coursed down her face. So near and yet so far, the voice spoke quietly. So quietly she had to strain her inner ear to hear it. 

  
  


"I love you. Please come back to me. Come back and be my wife." 

  
  


The familiarness of it called to her heart and her heart called back. She opened her eyes and turned around. She smiled at Seamus and Derek. "I've made my choice."

  
  


*******************

  
  


Sirius sat unmoving by Glynnis' bedside. Attivus and Remus had tried to make him see reason. He needed his rest, as much as she did, but he told them that until she opened her eyes and greeted him or died in his arms, he refused to leave her. Harry was in the next bed, still unconscious as well. The surgery to remove his ruptured spleen, and the other injuries on top of the damage the dagger had done, had utterly exhausted him. Attivus had keep him in a controlled sleep for four days and was considering waking him in the morning, if he seemed to be stronger. 

  
  


In the first few hours after Sirius had awoken, three days ago, he had related the story of their disastrous run in with Vernon Dursley. The time after that had been spent watching and waiting. He slept in the chair between Glynnis and Harry's beds and refused to move. Harry would recover, Attivus assured him, but Glynnis was another story. She seemed to have given up fighting. Sirius spent the long hours of the night talking to her about his life, about James and Lily, about Hogwarts. And when his voice was tired and hoarse, he would hold her hand and think to her, not knowing if she could hear him or not.

  
  


Tonight he lay next to her on the bed, his hand stroking her hair. A storm was brewing and lightening flashed outside. The glowing fire was the only light in the room, Sirius' three friends having gone to bed long ago. For some reason, the storm unnerved him. Something was happening. He couldn't explain it but something told him tonight would be it. For better or worse, live or die, Glynnis would be awake or gone by morning. 

  
  


"Glynnis," he whispered into her ear. "I know you can hear me."

  
  


The storm seemed to intensify as the seconds passed. Thunder crashed above the house, rattling the windows.

  
  


"Come back to me. Please. We need you." He tried to swallow back the tears but one escaped him and fell unheeded onto her cheek. "I need you." 

  
  


Sirius wanted to raise his voice, to shout above the storm, to rage at whatever force held her prisoner. Instead he bowed his head into her hair and spoke so softly he could barely hear himself, saying the words that had been on his tongue from the first night they'd met and the words that had formed there since that time.

  
  


"I love you. Please come back to me. Come back and be my wife." 

  
  


A huge gust of wind whistled over the rooftop and down the chimney. The fire flared up with a flash and exploded up the flue, leaving nothing but the smoking hearth behind. Sirius ran to close the damper, afraid the flames would lash back and set the room on fire. With a sigh of relief he heard the rain pour down, extinguishing any blaze that might have started above. "Lumos," he said quietly and a small light appeared in his hand. He checked on Harry and adjusted the blankets over him. Then he turned back to Glynnis and saw her eyes shining up at him in the dark.

  
  



	18. Epilogue

EPILOGUE: Family

  
  


A month later, Glynnis' garden was in full flower, a riot of color and scent. The nearby trees, which had shed their blossoms in the spring, were in full bloom again, thanks to Sirius. The downy white petals drifted over the assembled family and friends like confetti. In the center of the garden stood a trellis covered with climbing pink roses. It was here that Sirius stood waiting, Harry by his side. Each was decked out in new white robes made especially for the occasion by Mrs. Weasley. The maroon trim was decorated with ivy vines that twisted along as they moved. Albus Dumbledore, in his best robes, was standing behind the trellis, a smile on his face. All around the garden stood the people that were most important to Sirius and Glynnis. Ron Weasley, Hermione and her parents, and Remus Lupin all waited patiently in the afternoon sunshine while Glynnis, in a white dress that had been her grandmother's, walked with Attivus Attlewart toward them. She carried a simple bouquet of trailing ivy and the birdsong and rustling leaves were her wedding march. 

  
  


Attivus smiled happily as he placed her hand in Sirius' and stepped aside. He'd been honored that she'd asked him to give her away. He wiped away a tear as he listened to his old friend and his new one pledge to love, honor and cherish each other forever. He was glad that they were finally getting the happiness they deserved and was certain they would have lovely children.

  
  


***********************

  
  


"Harry, you're sure you have everything?" Glynnis asked as she helped him load the luggage carrier at King's Cross Station. 

  
  


"Yes, Glynnie, I do." Harry replied patiently for the fourth time in as many minutes. Hedwig hooted in commiseration of Harry's plight, for Glynnis had been fussing over both of them since they left home earlier.

  
  


"And you know where you're going?" 

  
  


Harry sighed. "Glynnie, this isn't the first time I've gone off to school."

  
  


Glynnis smiled ruefully. "I know, but it's the first time I've seen you off and I want to do it right."

  
  


"You're as bad as Mrs. Weasley," Harry remarked as she adjusted his collar and straightened his hair. 

  
  


"Is that good?" she asked with a laugh. 

  
  


Harry laughed too. "Yes."

  
  


Glynnis stood back and looked at him. "You've grown taller these past few weeks. I'll have some new clothes for you come Christmas. You are coming home for Christmas?"

  
  


Harry nodded. "Home for Christmas," he said wistfully. "I wouldn't miss it." 

  
  


"Good." Glynnis regarded Harry seriously. "I'll miss you, Harry. The house will seem awfully quiet with you gone. Be sure and send Hedwig if you need anything. And I'll see you when I meet with Professor Dumbledore later in the term."

  
  


"Do you know when Doctor Attlewart will be finished testing you?" he asked.

  
  


Glynnis shook her head. "No. It will be soon though. I'm looking forward to meeting with him. With Sirius gone so much, it's nice to have something to do. And all that practicing makes me all the better. I guess practice does make perfect."

  
  


Harry grinned. "Well, then, before long you won't need to send an owl. You can just think me your messages."

  
  


She tugged his ear gently. "Just hope I don't send a Howler! Then you'd be sorry." She pulled Harry into a firm embrace and kissed the top of his head. "Goodbye, Harry. Take care." Harry returned the hug with all his strength. He'd come to love Glynnis very much and was going to miss her and Sirius. It had been wonderful having a real home. He couldn't wait to come back and he hadn't even left yet. 

  
  


"Goodbye, Glynnis," he said huskily as he pulled away from her. He pulled the luggage cart along and with a final wave disappeared into the wall.

  
  



End file.
